Family
by Dawnstorm101
Summary: Jim's mother comes aboard the Enterprise, much to Jim's dismay. Can Bones and Spock convince him to begin repairing the badly damaged relationship? Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. Prequel to Brothers.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this is something I came up with at like 10 or 11pm and wrote in less than 2 hours when I really should've been asleep, so sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse.

* * *

"Who is coming aboard?" Spock asked.

Jim shrugged. "I don't know. Even Pike is keeping his mouth shut on this one."

"That doesn't make sense. Why would they send someone to Starfleet's flagship and not tell the captain?" Leonard protested.

"My thoughts exactly, Bones."

The three men entered the transporter room, where Scotty was waiting at the controls. "She's ready to beam up, Cap'n."

"Beam her up, Scotty," Jim ordered, straightening up.

"Well, at least we know a gender," Leonard muttered. He tugged at the collar of his dress uniform, trying not to be irritated at how easily the hobgoblin looked professional. He only had to wait a few moments for white tendrils of light to give way to a fully-formed middle-aged woman, but instead of the next few moments providing clarity, he only grew more confused.

She had long, curly blonde hair, streaked with silver. Her eyes were brown, but their shape looked incredibly familiar. In fact, so was the way she carried herself – tall, confident, but with hints of defensiveness. Upon seeing her, Jim stiffened, one foot shifting towards the door, a painfully familiar guardedness dropping over his bright blue eyes – and suddenly, Leonard knew who she was.

"So this is why Pike didn't tell me who you were," Jim concluded coldly. "He knew I'd never let you on my ship."

Pain bled through her eyes. "Jim…"

 _"Captain,"_ he cut her off.

"It's been years, swee-"

"You do _not_ get to call me that. I fell for it when I was five, but not anymore."

Never, _never_ had Leonard heard Jim sound so cold. Not even with Khan, not even with anyone that insulted him or someone close to him. There was always emotion in his voice, no matter how buried, no matter how hard he tried not to care. But now… There was nothing. His voice was pure ice, and that was _wrong_ on so many levels.

"Now, Jim, I know I was hardly the best mother-"

"The best? You _weren't_ a mother. You barely looked at me. You were never home. You… You left me with _him._ You sent me _there."_

And there was the emotion. Fury, abandonment, pain… terror. Leonard's heart sank. Jim had finally learned to trust again, to share his burdens with his crew, his family – and every emotion he had finally let go of was currently surging back to the surface. And what did "him" and "there" mean?

"I can never apologize enough-"

Jim stepped forward, his fists clenching at his sides. "You haven't even tried!" he yelled. "I haven't seen you since before you sent me away, which is pretty freaking pathetic considering what happened! Not a word, _nothing,_ in _six_ _teen years._ "

"I have a week to fix that," she offered quietly.

"Not if I don't see you," Jim retorted, his voice suddenly cold again. "Spock, you know the drill. Tour, quarters, food, whatever. And keep her away from me."

Without another word, Jim spun on his heel and fled the room at a brisk walk. Leonard shared a helpless glance with Scotty while Spock stood in stunned silence, probably overwhelmed by this new level of illogical human relationships. Leonard appraised the woman standing on the pad, noting she didn't look as heartbroken as he would have expected – he knew he'd be devastated if Joanna said anything even remotely similar to him. She didn't look indifferent, either, but she didn't look like she cared enough.

Spock recovered his voice first. "Winona Kirk, I presume?"

She flashed a smile that was simultaneously heartbroken and bitter. "Swan. I dropped Kirk years ago."

"Would that be before or after you hurt Jim?" Leonard snapped. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but he followed Jim before she could.

-LLAP-

Spock watched McCoy leave, most likely to chase down Jim. Swan appeared to slump, but only momentarily – like her son, she appeared to have the ability to pretend nothing affected her. She stepped down from the pad, her expression once again professional. She lifted her hand in a traditional Vulcan salute that Spock was half a second slow to return.

"Commander Spock, yes?"

"Correct," Spock confirmed, returning his hands to their position behind his back. "Where would you like to go first?"

She considered the question for a moment. "My quarters, please. I need to… collect my thoughts."

"Of course. This way." Spock made sure to turn the opposite way from McCoy and Jim. While he didn't really understand the hostility Jim had shown her, he knew he had been given an order, and he would follow it – for now.

"Chris told me you and Jim are pretty close," Swan broached after a few moments.

Spock inclined his head stiffly.

"I suppose we don't know each other nearly well enough for favors, but he's my son, and I want to get to know the man he's become. I just… I can't do it alone. I lost his trust long ago."

Spock couldn't detect any insincerity in her tone or body language, but the way Jim had reacted… "You know I cannot guarantee anything."

"Yeah. Just try?"

He stopped outside the door. "I do not know what Admiral Pike told you, but Jim has made himself a home here on the _Enterprise_. He is content here, despite a difficult beginning. If I see it fit, I will do as you ask, but I will not permit anything to ruin what he has achieved, even if that obstacle is his own mother. Is that clear?"

He was certain he hadn't said anything amusing, but she smiled anyway. "Chris did say you would be incredibly protective. Yes, Commander, you've made your position clear."

Spock waited a beat before nodding. "Then we have arrived at your quarters, Ms. Swan."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Any time, Ms. Swan. Should you need anything, comm. Lieutenant Uhura – she will reach out to the appropriate crew members."

She nodded and disappeared inside. Spock, not technically on duty for another hour and twenty minutes, struck out to find Jim.

-LLAP-

Leonard managed to catch up to Jim after a few minutes, tracking him down in the private observation lounge. He huddled against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arm wrapped around them, his free hand holding a glass of beer. His gaze rested on the stars, never straying, but then, he had never needed to look around to know it was Leonard coming up behind him.

"How'd you find me?" he rasped.

"You always look at the stars when your childhood comes up. I've lived with you at the Academy and here for a grand total of six years, Jim – I think I know your habits by now."

Jim gulped down a couple mouthfuls of his beer. "Wonderful."

Leonard settled on the floor beside him. "I'm too old for this," he muttered.

"You're only 35, Bones."

"Well, I've been patching you together for six years."

Jim snorted. "True."

Leonard took a swig of Jim's beer, ignoring the kid's protests. "Just making sure it's not heavy, cause you do have to work in an hour."

Jim snatched it back. "I know. Am I allowed to mope in peace until then?"

"Nope."

"Bones-"

"Jim, we've been through this. You are not alone, and we only want to help you move on from your past, especially when it gets shoved in your face like this."

"I don't see a 'we' right now."

"You know the hobgoblin will be here once he's done following your order. He's more human than he admits – and so are you."

Jim glanced at him like he had grown a second head. "I'm fully human."

Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You know what I meant, Jim. Everyone has their skeletons in the closet, their own demons to overcome. I know you know you can trust me and the hobgoblin, and we'll help you however we can, but you need to let us in to fully help."

Jim shook his head stubbornly. "Not this time," he whispered.

Leonard took the glass back, setting it down. Jim didn't protest. "We know your past is bad, but the first step to moving on is admitting it happened. That's how you got over your post-death panic attacks, remember?"

"I don't want to remember," Jim snapped, but the tone was almost pleading. "And you don't want to know."

The doors slid open again. "On the contrary, Jim."

Jim groaned. "I told you," Leonard announced triumphantly. Both captain and first officer shot him a pointed look, and he reined in his emotions.

"You really don't," Jim insisted.

"We need to in order to assist you in moving on," Spock retorted. He sat in one graceful motion, glancing at the half-empty beer glass.

"Told ya."

Spock clasped his hands together. "She is your mother, Jim, whether you appreciate the fact or not."

"She gave birth to me, but otherwise she's not my mother," Jim snapped, turning a glare on Spock.

In his own Vulcan way, Spock's look at Jim was equally heated. "Do not be a fool, Jim. There is nothing I would not give to have one more day with my mother, as illogical as the idea is. You have that chance – do not throw it away because of mistakes made sixteen years ago."

Jim had sobered slightly at the mention of Spock's mother – an easy wound to open, even three years later – but his fire returned full force. "They were far greater than _mistakes._ Frank nearly killed me, and in response she shipped me off to Tarsus freaking IV!"

All three men froze in horror – Jim at saying too much, Leonard and Spock at the implications of those words.

Tarsus IV. God, not there. So many people had died… And only nine kids could identify their mass-murderer. Could Jim be…? Best to find out from the beginning.

"Who was Frank?" Leonard asked quietly, patiently.

It took a minute, but Jim finally, haltingly, spoke. "He… He was my father's brother. Winona… My mother married him a few years… after. Things were… ok, at first, even though she and my brother couldn't look at me without thinking of my father. Then… Frank got abusive. I was, uh, eleven the first time he hit me, I think. Wi- my mother never knew, she was off-planet so much. Finally, when I was thirteen, my brother ran away, I drove my dad's antique Corvette off a cliff, and Frank… snapped. I was hospitalized for two weeks, and the moment I was strong enough, she sent me to my aunt – on her side – on Tarsus IV. It was the last time I saw her until now. I felt like a normal kid for the first time in my life… And then Kodos happened. I looked up to him, and he treated me like a treasure. I wasn't on the kill list, but my aunt, uncle, and cousin were, and I went to the courtyard with them anyway. Then the shooting started – I grabbed my cousin and ran. We found a few others – I was the oldest, and my five-year-old cousin was the youngest. We lived in the forest, always moving, barely surviving for months before Kodos found us. A few of my kids – cause that's what they were to me – died of exposure, a few died in the pursuit, including my cousin. I turned myself in so the rest could get away, and Kodos nearly killed me. Three months of hospitalization, they separated the nine of us who survived the second they found us, and my brother and mother never came to see me. I bounced from foster home to foster home for a while before running away, and well, you guys know the rest."

Jim swiped viciously at escaping tears, glancing longingly at his beer. Leonard tucked it safely away from him, not knowing what else to do.

Spock, surprisingly, did. He spoke softly, careful not to antagonize Jim again. "She made mistakes. The results were terrible, to say the least, but at the time, she thought she was doing what was best. She likely married Frank to give you and your brother a father, and she sent you to Tarsus IV so you could be happy. But his abuse, Kodos's actions – they were not her fault."

"Then why did she abandon me?" Jim asked. He sounded exactly like the lost, hurting, lonely child he must have been. Leonard pulled him close, wrapping him securely in a one-armed hug.

"You would have to ask her," Spock pointed out. "But you cannot do that if you refuse to speak to her. Now you have a week to do so in the security of your ship – your home – surrounded by your crew. She seems genuine about her desire to reconnect.

"Take the opportunity I do not have, Jim – spend time with your mother."

Jim dropped his head onto Leonard's shoulder. "Maybe after our shift," he whispered.

Leonard rubbed his arm reassuringly. "All right."

"Can you… Can you guys come with me?"

"Whatever you wish," Spock promised. Leonard nodded, readily agreeing with the hobgoblin for once.

"Whenever you wish," he added.

-LLAP-

Eight hours later, they sat in the captain's private dining room. Winona smiled through tears, reaching out to grasp her son's hand. He sat across the table, Spock and McCoy on either side like protective big brothers.

"I'm ready to listen," he whispered.

* * *

A/N: If I feel inspired and this gets a decent response, I may expand on this. If.

Remember to leave a review! They make my day.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've decided to continue it (*Snape voice* obviously). I'm going to make this a story spanning the whole week she's onboard, and there'll be healthy doses of Spock feels too because I just can't resist them (but I will do my best to keep the main focus on Jim). And since the first chapter was written to be a one-shot, these next chapters will differ slightly in length and structure. I hope you enjoy them just as much regardless!

* * *

Leonard almost winced when Jim pulled his hand away from Winona's, tucking it in his lap. It was a move Jim used far too often, withdrawing from unexpected physical contact he didn't instigate. For years, Leonard had been left to wonder and theorize, but with this morning's revelations… No wonder the kid was so jumpy.

Winona did wince, but she didn't fight, instead pulling back and swiping away a couple fallen tears. "What do you want to know first?"

Jim glanced at Spock. "Why didn't you come back?"

She glanced away. "I wanted to, I really did-"

"I didn't ask how you felt," Jim snapped. He placed his hands on the edge of the table, ready to get up.

"Sweetheart-"

"What did I say about calling me that?" Jim growled. "Screw this." He shoved his chair back, turning to the door – until Spock grabbed his wrist.

"Jim."

Spock's hand mostly touched the fabric of Jim's uniform, but he connected with just enough bare skin for touch telepathy to work. Reluctance and pain bled through a feeble mask of anger in Jim's electric blue eyes, unseen by his mother and first officer. He tried only half-heartedly to free his wrist, eyeing the door longingly.

"She's not your mother, Spock. Human families don't always work like that." His voice tried to be strong, but it betrayed the confusion within.

If the words cut through Spock's human heart like a knife, he didn't show it. He stood up, keeping hold of Jim's wrist but not blocking his path to the door. "Do you believe half-Vulcan families function smoothly? It was difficult at the best of times."

Jim snorted. "At least your parents loved you."

It was no longer just Jim fighting to keep up a mask. "My mother made it known, yes, but I could see it hurting her every time she could not comfort me because I am Vulcan. And as for my father, you are not the only one who knows what it is like to have a parent who can barely look at you. Just as your mother found you too similar to your father, my father never believed I was similar enough. It was his decision to marry a human and have a child with her, and he knew from the start there would be difficulties in raising a hybrid, but I still was always too human. Until the day Vulcan was destroyed, we had not talked since I declined admission to the Vulcan Science Academy."

 _Well, ain't this just a doozy of a day._

Spock, incredibly but not unpredictably, was even more tight-lipped about his childhood than Jim, and in under nine hours, both of them had poured out some of their most guarded details. Shooting a glance at Winona, Leonard didn't know whether to thank or dislike her for this. Her arrival had torn open old wounds in the ship's two most senior officers, but if finally talking about them allowed them to at least begin to fully heal…

In the loaded silence that followed Spock's speech, Winona finally, quietly, spoke up. "I didn't look at you because I didn't want you to see my pain. I didn't want you to feel responsible for something that wasn't your fault."

Jim looked at Leonard, silently pleading for someone to give him answers. He only shook his head and murmured "It's your life, kid."

Long, tense moments crawled by. Then, slowly, Spock released his hold on Jim. They sat down, neither one looking at the others as they fought to regain control of their emotions. "All right," Jim whispered, his gaze flickering towards Winona and down again.

She took a deep breath, her gaze straying for a moment before she forced it to rest on her son. "I never came back for you because I thought you would be better off without me. I tried to be the mother to you that I was to Sam, but everything just… backfired. I didn't look at you so you wouldn't blame yourself, but you only thought I hated you. I married Frank so you could have a father figure, but he… you know. I sent you to Tarsus IV because I thought you'd be happier there, and then… At that point, I was just thinking that anything I did would hurt you, so I decided that leaving would minimize the damage."

Jim glared at her. "I lost _everything_ on that planet. I lost my aunt, my uncle, my cousin, my friends, my kids, my _childhood_. I would've loved to get my mother and brother back instead of being shipped off to a bunch of foster homes that were almost as bad."

"I know, swe- Jim, I know that now. But I want to fix that."

Jim snorted. "You can't. The memories are here to stay, and so are the nightmares. You can't fix the fact that I spend every day wondering if and when Kodos will come back, that I spend every night screaming because of him and Frank. No one can, so don't even bother."

Winona flinched. "I didn't-"

Jim's eyes were orbs of blue fire. "You didn't know? Shocking. Do you even know anything about me besides my birthday and that I look like him? I'm gonna guess no, because you never bothered to learn."

"I knew a lot about you. You were so intelligent, always carrying around at least one book, acing all your classes. When I first met him, your father was like that, too-"

"Don't compare me to him!" Jim yelled, jumping to his feet and leaning on the table. "That's all you see me as – George Kirk's son. Did you ever stop to think that I'm more than that? No, you didn't." He laughed mirthlessly. "I should've seen this coming. You just want him back, not me."

"Sweetheart, wait-"

Jim was already fleeing, speed walking out the door. Winona tried to follow him, but Spock was on feet and blocking her before Leonard could move. There was a hard edge to his otherwise calm voice as he said, "I suggest you return to your quarters, Ms. Swan."

"Move. He's my son," Winona snarled.

"Even I know that family is about more than blood, and so far, I have heard little evidence of you being his mother in any other fashion."

"Ever heard the phrase 'don't stand between a mother bear and her cub?'"

Leonard stood up, stepping placatingly between the two. "Trust me, getting between a half-human Vulcan and his best friend is much worse. Now go back to your quarters before someone does something they'll regret – and stay away from Jim unless he says so. Doctor's orders. Understood?"

Her glare was as icy as Khan's had been. "Fine," she snapped. Without another word, she shoved past the two of them and stalked down the corridor.

Spock took a moment before speaking. "Should we find Jim?"

Leonard shook his head. "He needs some alone time. Plus, you and Uhura have a romantic evening planned, remember?"

It was one of very few times Leonard could remember seeing Spock even a little reluctant to spend time with his fiancé. Leonard clapped him on the shoulder, ignoring the dubious glance the Vulcan shot him.

"You know he won't listen in this state. He's just gonna throw up his walls and make us go away, so it's illogical to try."

Spock nodded. "You are right."

"You realize this is the second time in one day that we've agreed with each other?"

His eyebrow rose. "Indeed."

Leonard sighed. "Go be with Uhura – you've had enough memories resurface for one day. Carol picked a hell of a week to visit her mother."

"And where will you be, Doctor?"

"Trying to find out exactly how bad it really was."

-LLAP-

Once Jim had put some distance between himself and his mother, he slowed to a walk. He snuck through his ship, using the least-traveled paths, thankful it was "night" time so most of his crew was asleep. He emerged in the room a deck below engine room, making a beeline for an isolated, hidden corner. It was just big enough to be comfy, just small enough to be cozy, with a small window allowing him a view of space that was only a couple inches of the floor. A blanket and pillow awaited him, and when he curled up on the ground, the _Enterprise_ vibrated through him like they were one and the same. He had discovered the spot in the first month onboard – it was a quiet place, rarely visited by anyone, where he could think and ignore life, enjoying the gentle comfort of his ship. Only Scotty knew he came here, after accidentally stumbling upon the napping captain one day. He hadn't asked for an explanation, simply promising to keep the other engineers out as much as possible – for which Jim was extremely grateful.

Jim freed one hand from his blanket cocoon, resting his fingertips on the window's cool glass. The stars streaked by, as comforting now as they had been during the long nights back on Earth. They provided an escape, a reminder that there was always somewhere to go.

And right now, he wanted nothing but to escape the memories, the emotions resurfacing with a vengeance.

* * *

A/N: Remember, reviews make my day! (And they motivate me, and readers of _What If It Were Spock?_ know I need that. By the way, for you guys, I promise I'm working on it as well as this, but I want to make sure I've got a good plot going before I post chapter 10, cause that story really has a mind of its own and I don't wanna ruin it. Quality over quantity, you know?).


	3. Chapter 3

Leonard ate a quick dinner before returning to his office to do some digging. He brought up the file of Jim's medical history, scrolling past the frankly appallingly long section made up of away missions gone wrong and attacks on the _Enterprise_ , as well as the slightly shorter but less severe section of their time at the Academy. He scrolled and scrolled, looking for the records from ages eleven to thirteen. Age sixteen, fifteen, fourteen… ten.

Hold on, _what_?

That didn't make sense. If Jim had been right about his age – and with events like that, it was hard to believe Jim's brilliant mind would forget – and he hadn't exaggerated the severity of the injures (knowing Jim, he'd probably understated them), then there would _have_ to be records. Unless…. Unless they were beyond classified. The Tarsus Nine had been split up for their safety, just in case Kodos had survived – it made sense records of their time there would be erased. In which case, only a select view people would have access to them, and certainly none of those people were aboard the _Enterprise._ Maybe there was one person he could ask…

He opened up a comm. link to Starfleet Headquarters. A bleary-eyed cadet answered, and after going through all the necessary loops, he finally connected Leonard to Admiral Pike.

 _"Hello, Doctor,"_ Pike greeted, looking almost as tired as the cadet had. _"I know you're on a ship and day vs night is screwed up, but really-"_

"It's about Jim," Leonard cut him off.

Pike froze instantly, all traces of exhaustion vanishing. _"Is it about his mother?"_

He shrugged. "Sort of. Her arrival has led to some… talking. Including what happened when he was thirteen."

Well, if he, Pike, and Spock had only one thing in common, it was their sheer inability to keep up a poker face when the subject of Jim hurting came up. _"What- I don't- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about."_

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence. He told us, and I went to check his medical records, but there's nothing there. Nothing. That doesn't just happen and you know it."

Pike sighed. _"All right, I know what you're talking about. But even I don't have access to his records."_

"Damn it," Leonard groaned.

 _"Why do you need them, anyway?"_

"His mother wants to reconnect with him, and Spock and I are trying to help, but without the whole picture…"

Pike nodded. _"I see. I have a few favors I could call on… Give me an hour."_

Leonard nodded. "See you in an hour."

The admiral ended the comm., leaving Leonard wondering what to do. With a shrug, he picked up his PADD and began skimming reports he was supposed to sign. Paperwork – a constant irritation to senior officers for centuries. His mind wandered, wondering what Jim was doing and where, if it would be inappropriate to call Carol. It hadn't taken long for their crush to deepen to love, though Jim's death and superior rank had delayed them acting on it until one fateful away mission nearly killed them both. Since then, they'd grown extremely close, but he didn't know how much Jim had opened up to her (since acceptance of an extreme lack of information about his past seemed to be a requirement when befriending Jim Kirk).

The hour simultaneously dragged and flew by. With almost Vulcan precision, the comm. link reopened after an hour. _"You should be getting the file any second now. Keep them secure, and don't mention my involvement,"_ Pike said without preamble.

"Done and done. Thanks, Admiral."

 _"And McCoy – take care of Jim."_

"What do you think I've been doing for six years?" Leonard half-joked. Pike smirked and hung up.

Suddenly hesitant, Leonard opened up the file. Age eleven was at the top. It wouldn't be so bad – bruises, sprains, bloody nose, minor injuries any young boy could've gotten – if he didn't know how those injuries had happened. Age twelve was worse – a few broken bones, concussions, dislocated shoulders… But age thirteen made his blood boil. On Earth, Jim had had broken ribs, a concussion so severe he'd been in a medically-induced coma for a few days, and the fingers on his right hand broken or dislocated from trying to defend himself. On Tarsus IV, he'd been beaten just as badly, on top of being as malnourished as kids living in third world countries in the early 21st century. Only pure monsters would do that to a young, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Jim Kirk.

And Winona had let them.

 _She probably didn't know. You didn't know Jocelyn wanted the divorce until she handed you the papers that cost you everything._

 _Child abuse leaves a lot of marks._

 _So does divorce._

 _She just_ abandoned _him._

 _And what does Joanna think you did? Jocelyn hasn't let you see her in six years. No one's a perfect parent, and some have it harder than others._

Leonard sighed, dragging a hand across his face. He was a doctor, damn it, not a family therapist. He fixed physical wounds, not emotional ones.

 _Unless the patient's name is Jim Kirk._

His comm. beeped for attention, and he hit the button absently. "McCoy here."

 _"Bones…"_

He stiffened, thoughts of the past banished at the weak, terrified voice. "Jim?"

 _"C-can't… breathe…"_

The PADD clattered onto the table, abandoned in favor of grabbing his specially assembled Jim Kirk emergency medical bag, because the kid was allergic to just about everything. "Where are you?"

 _"S-Scotty… knows…"_

Damn it, of course he had to be in one of his hiding spots. "All right, I'll be there soon. Just try to calm down. Think of Carol, or of beating Spock at chess or something. Can you do that?"

No response. Cursing inwardly, he promised "I'll be there" again before hanging up and comming Scotty. "McCoy to Engineering. Scotty?"

 _"Aye, Doc. Wha' is it?"_

"I need to get to Jim. He said you'd know where he is."

A brief pause. _"Aye, but I dinnae think he wants anyone to know-"_

"It's urgent and medical," Leonard cut him off, impressed by Scotty's loyalty nonetheless.

 _"I see. Ach, it's hard t' explain – meet me in Engineering, and I'll show ye."_

He hung up and raced down to Engineering, stabbing the turbolift button repeatedly with increasing force until the doors finally reopened. Scotty, waiting outside the doors to Engineering, didn't bother talking before leading Leonard down to a place he hadn't even known existed.

"In there," Scotty said, stopping a few feet from an unassuming grey door. "It's no' really important, jus' a storage compartmen' fer spare tools. Nice and quiet, outta the way but close to the ship's heart. He'll likely be in the far corner."

"Thanks. I've got it from here."

Scotty nodded and retreated. Leonard stepped inside the small room, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Jim, a moment delayed by the relatively large cabinets lining the right and half of the back wall obscuring his view of the corner Scotty had mentioned. The young captain curled up in the corner created by the half-cabinet-wall, pressed against a window dominating the left wall, his fists clutching a blanket, his chest heaving as he fought for air, his eyes wide and terrified. Leonard jogged over and knelt beside him, dropping the bag as he realized it was a panic attack.

"Jim, I'm here," he informed him, reaching out but not quite touching him, waiting for Jim to make the first move. It took a moment for his presence to cut through the panic, but the second Jim noticed him, he grabbed the proffered hand, clutching it like a lifeline. Leonard brought it up to his chest, breathing deep and slow, coaching Jim to "Breathe, just like me. In, out, in, out."

Gradually, Jim's breathing calmed. Leonard carefully freed him from the blanket he'd entangled himself in, shifting him away from the ice cold window. Jim neither helped nor fought him, the fading of the panic attack leaving his eyes blank. Once he had made Jim as comfortable as he could, Leonard sat back, providing silent comfort until Jim was ready for the verbal kind.

Jim had always had nightmares, as Leonard had discovered when they became roommates at the Academy. They had only turned into panic attacks after he sacrificed himself in the warp core, the terror of dying finally pushing his already abused psyche over the edge. The first one had happened at the hospital in San Francisco, triggered by a news report of his heroism he had stumbled upon during idle browsing, and only Spock finishing what the glass had prevented calmed him down. In the following months, different causes had cropped up that only Jim knew, each fixed by a different tactic that Jim decided on. In the dark about most of the causes, Leonard and Spock had only managed to help him stop ones caused by the warp core incident – the others still plagued him when his guard dropped. But, being Jim Kirk, he refused to let them in to help, only letting them help with each individual attack as it happened.

"Th-thanks," Jim finally rasped.

"You know you don't have to thank me for this," Leonard pointed out mildly.

Jim gave a noncommittal grunt, his eyes resting on the wall.

"What was it this time?" Leonard finally murmured. Jim flinched, shaking his head as he curled in on himself. "Come on, Jim, you know talking helps."

"Kodos," Jim ground out. "A nightmare about… what he did… after."

"Which was?" Leonard prompted gently. Medical reports gave only cold hard facts – Leonard needed the emotion of a first-person account to truly know what happened.

"No," Jim protested, his breath hitching. Leonard didn't even need a tricorder to know his heartrate was speeding up again.

"All right, all right, you don't have to explain now," Leonard gave in, lifting his hands in surrender. The last thing the kid needed right now was another panic attack.

Jim calmed a bit, but a wary glance proved he'd caught on to the meaning of the word "now." Leonard left it at that, realizing that, this time, Jim needed silent comfort more than words. Well, silence on the Kodos matter, anyway.

"You use this spot pretty often, don't you?" he asked, idly inspecting the blanket's frayed edge.

"Yeah. Shocked it took you this long to find it, to be honest."

"You and me both. Why'd you pick this one?"

Jim shifted closer to the wall. "I can feel her, and it's… it's like we're one. It's… like she's keeping me safe. Not that you guys don't, but it's just- she doesn't ask questions, you know? She's just _there."_

Leonard didn't pretend to understand the bond Jim and Scotty apparently had with the ship – he preferred a living, flesh-and-blood friend – but it brought them a sense of belonging, of companionship, and that he wouldn't question.

Jim sighed, moving to rest his head on the thigh of Leonard's outstretched leg. "But I don't think she's enough… this time."

Leonard draped his arm over Jim's torso, inwardly wincing at the brief tension in Jim's muscles. Once it eased, though, Jim slid surprisingly easily into sleep.

The admission, though reluctant, was a start to pulling Jim into the warmth of real relationships once and for all. In six years, he had grown from a delinquent farm boy to Starfleet's most respected captain, and that didn't come without a fair share of personal growth, but that had always been slow going for Jim. And never before had he admitted his precious ship was less than what he needed.

Maybe Winona popping back into his life wasn't _all_ bad. Maybe only 95% bad? Ah, whatever – numbers were Spock's job. So long as the week ended on a high note, it would eventually be fine.

But would that high note simply be Winona's permanent departure from Jim's life, or a mother-son reconnection?

 _Only six days left to find out…_

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! And Spock will be back, but he somehow avoided being in this chapter despite plans to put him in. As much as I love the three-way bonding, I think this works better.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Well, today at school was pretty darn productive - I wrote about half of this during math today. And then I spent half of Forensic Science watching Criminal Minds, and another decent chunk of class just talking with my friends. Plus, seniors got to dress up today for Halloween, so I had Psychology with Iron Man, Spider-Man, Hulk, a banana, and a dinosaur. But I digress - basically, today was awesome, and this is a good note to end on. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Spock sat at his station for approximately ten minutes and twenty-three seconds before Jim finally jogged onto the bridge. "Keptin on the bridge," Ensign Chekov chirped, the words drawing a few pairs of eyes to the captain. Jim nodded to acknowledge them, and Spock instantly knew it had been a rough night for Jim. While being late was hardly a rare occurrence, the subtle shifting, the slight dishevelment of his hair, the lack of a cheerful greeting – these _were_ rare. And, judging by the lingering looks of some of the senior crewmembers, Spock was not the only person to notice.

"What?" Jim asked, defensive but trying to hide it. "This is not the latest I've ever been."

"I believe the record is-"

"Shut up, Spock."

The bridge crew snickered – Lieutenant Sulu had to elbow Chekov to quiet him. Jim mock-glared at them, but the brief levity had had the desired effect – he was relaxing. Jim settled more comfortably in his chair, flashing a smile at a pretty young ensign who nervously handed him a PADD. Nyota saw this and rolled her eyes, turning back to her station without commenting. Spock returned to his scans, edging to the side to take advantage of a reflective material to unobtrusively observe Jim. When the young captain thought no one was looking, he slumped a little, something heavier than simple exhaustion weighing on him.

He had little time to dwell on this before Jim stood abruptly. "Sulu, you have the conn," he ordered as he walked to the turbolift, trying and failing to appear unhurried. Spock recognized the maneuver, though he himself had not used it in years, and followed. Nyota watched in concern, half-rising until Spock shook his head.

Jim groaned as the doors closed behind him. "Spock, I didn't invite anyone for a reason."

Spock nodded. "I know. You are not the only one here who has utilized this tactic."

"Of course you have," Jim sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Nothing I do is original."

"That is not what I meant-"

Jim waved him off. "I know, I just… She always wanted me to be my dad. Hell, I'm pretty sure almost everyone wants me to be him. I thought was finally escaping that, and then she just beams herself back into my life, comparing me to him, and I…"

The doors slid open, revealing a familiar figure. Jim stiffened, his mouth clamping shut. Spock glanced between Jim and his mother, wondering what to do. In his moment of vulnerability, Jim clearly didn't want her around, but wasn't the point of this week – for him and Doctor McCoy, at least – to encourage him to get to know her again?

"Good morning, Jim," she greeted calmly. Jim hit the button to close the doors, but her hand flashed out to block them. "Can we talk again?"

"No," Jim snapped. "Go away."

He didn't say that like an order; it more closely resembled a hurt child who wanted to hide. Spock stepped out of the turbolift, forcing her to remove her hand. Due to their close proximity, she had to lean backwards to glare at him, but the glare lost none of its force. Spock refused to budge, giving the doors time to close.

As they did, the _Enterprise_ lurched violently to the side.

-LLAP-

Jim let himself be silently grateful for Spock's decision to move, even as part of him fumed that he didn't need help. He jabbed the button, urging the doors to close. For a moment, he thought he was safe.

Until his ship lurched violently to the side. The force threw Jim into the opposite wall, his shoulder slamming out of the socket with a distinct _pop._ Unable to hold back a scream, Jim dropped to the ground. He thought he blacked out – except the blackness never left. He could hear a red alert blaring in the corridor outside, knew red light must be decorating his ship, but the turbolift lights had winked out of existence. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing in his shoulder, Jim dragged himself upright, groping blindly for the button to open the doors.

Nothing happened.

He stabbed every button he found, but none of them did a single thing. The turbolift remained still, closed, and pitch black.

 _Fiery pain dominated his entire being, even drowning out the roaring of his stomach, empty for far too long. He supposed that was a tiny blessing._

His shoulder burned, his arm hanging uselessly at his side.

 _A powerful hand wrapped around his scrawny throat, squeezing until air no longer reached his longs. "You could have had everything, JT. You could have ruled the world, side by side with me. And yet you choose a few worthless kids? I thought you were better."_

 _Jim glared, putting every ounce of contempt his thirteen-year-old self could muster into the silent retort. Only instinct made his chest heave, ignoring the agony of broken ribs, desperate for air._

Panic crept in, his breaths coming more rapidly.

 _Kodos snorted. "You're just another failure."_

Jim dropped to his knees, an inescapable weight suddenly dropping onto his shoulders.

 _"Goodbye, JT."_

 _Kodos threw him backwards. Only a curse kept him conscious as the tumble jostled every single wound. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving him curled up, alone, in a pitch black room._

His heart pounded painfully against his chest. His body shook. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His ship was in danger, he couldn't help, he'd failed her again, failed them, he was alone, it was dark, so dark, Kodos would be back, nothing was ok, he wanted his-

 _"Jim, can you hear me? Jim?"_

Jim. Jim, not JT. His fingernails, digging into the ground, found metal, not dirt.

 _"Jim, if you can hear me, you've gotta hit the comm. button so we can talk. Jim?"_

Bones. That was Bones, right? Not Kodos. Not Kodos. Not Kodos.

 _Not Kodos._

Slowly, Jim dragged himself upright again, just enough to reach the wall comm. "Bones?" he rasped.

His friend's relief was audible even through the thick static. _"Yeah. Yeah, kid, it's Bones."_

How bad did he sound? Bones never called himself Bones.

 _"Are you hurt?"_

"My shoulder… dislocated. Bones, get me out of here," he pleaded, not caring who else was out there. He just _needed to get out._

 _"Spock's working on it. You'll be out real soon, ok? You just gotta hang on for a few minutes."_

A few minutes? "Bones, I c-can't…"

 _"Jim, stay with me. You're safe on the_ Enterprise, _I promise."_

Jim latched onto his ship. "What happened…?"

 _"An asteroid came out of nowhere. It knocked out the main power, but no one's severely injured. She's fine – we're fine."_

Despite the situation, a smile ghosted across his face. "You called the _Enterprise_ 'she.'"

 _"Don't get used to it."_

 _"Doctor-"_

 _"Hang on, hobgoblin. Jim, I'll be right back."_

"Bones, don't-"

The static disappeared.

"Bones!"

-LLAP-

Expletives raced through Leonard's mind. "The comm. just cut out."

"I can hear that, Doctor," Spock pointed out. The wires controlling the turbolift were exposed, the cover forgotten by Spock's knees, where the Vulcan knelt to attempt to fix the dang thing.

"He's _panicking,_ damn it!"

"I heard that as well," Spock muttered. He picked out on wire, examined it, and let it fall back into place.

"Would you hurry up already?"

"I am endeavoring to do so, Doctor. However, the poor lighting and your comments are entirely unhelpful."

"Are you two always like this?"

Leonard jumped – he'd completely forgotten Winona was still here. "No," he spluttered.

"Aye," Scotty corrected, jogging down the corridor. "They never quit their squabblin'."

"It is not- can you fix this thing? Fast."

"Lemme see, Commander."

Spock stepped back, allowing the chief engineer to do his job. The Vulcan turned his attention to the doors, giving them a few experimental shoves. Scotty let out a noise of protest.

"Wha' are ye doing?!"

"If you cannot repair the turbolift quickly, we will have to resort to other means to free the captain."

"It's just a lift; he'll be fine," Scotty pointed out confusedly.

"He's hurt," Leonard cut in.

"He's more than hurt," Winona protested.

"Shut up, Swan."

"Doc, I was there last nigh', remember? A bi', anyway. I can guess what's going on. Did either of ye even move until the start of shift?"

Dang it. Scotty had seen them… He wasn't ashamed of letting Jim use him as a much-needed pillow for practically the whole night, but Jim… "Uh, privileged medical info," Leonard muttered. It had been inevitable, he supposed, some other members of the crew finding out about Jim's panic attacks…

Scotty shrugged. "I dinnae judge."

"It was _platonic!"_

"No' what I meant, Doc. I meant Jim's… psychological troubles."

Leonard's cheeks flushed. "I knew that."

"I cannae fix it righ' now," Scotty reported, sitting back in defeat. "Go ahead, Mr. Spock."

Without hesitation, Spock pushed the doors. He planted his feet, strain showing in tense muscles and gritted teeth. The doors didn't give way, refusing to open despite Vulcan strength.

"Ach, they must be jammed somehow," Scotty muttered, looking at the circuitry again.

"We need to get Jim _out,"_ Leonard exclaimed.

"Oh, move," Winona snapped. She shouldered Spock aside and attacked the doors ruthlessly, employing a brand of strength Leonard hadn't seen since Jocelyn saved Joanna from getting crushed by a horse by _catching_ the horse as it fell.

It was a strength born purely of a mother's love.

The doors flew open, and she darted inside, dropping to her knees hard enough for her bare skin to squeal against the floor. No one really cared though, not at the sight of Jim pressed up against the wall, his eyes all but rolled back into his head, tremors racking his entire body, his breaths coming in desperate gasps, his right arm dangling at an awkward angle from the shoulder.

Winona stroked his hair, holding him still as he instinctively tried to recoil. "It's ok, sweetheart. It's ok."

-LLAP-

Someone touched his hair. He tried to flinch back, finding only wall, feeling his heartbeat somehow speed up. He had to get away, his shoulder _hurt-_

"It's ok, sweetheart. It's ok."

The voice cut through the haze. It was familiar, soothing, warm, _there._ He lunged forward, grabbing the person in a one-armed hug, craving the comfort. The arms hesitated for a moment before hugging him back, holding him, rubbing his back just like-

Just like his mother used to.

Reality resurfaced through cracks in the panic. The person holding him, their voice – distinctly feminine.

He was doing what he'd vowed to never do again at the fragile young age of thirteen.

Still, for a moment, he just clutched her. For a moment, he was a child again, knowing something was off but still comforted by his mother's touch. Then a lifetime of bad memories slammed into the forefront of his mind, reminding him why he'd built the wall firmly separating him and her.

"Bones," he rasped, shoving her away. Pain replaced the hesitant contentment in her eyes.

-LLAP-

Leonard knelt beside Jim, gently moving Winona aside. "Let's get you to medbay, Jim," he murmured, pulling Jim's uninjured arm over his shoulders. Jim complied silently, shrinking towards Leonard. Spock took a step after them but hesitated, a subtle war waging in his human eyes.

"Stay with her," Leonard told him softly. Winona still knelt on the turbolift floor. "I think they just made some progress."

Spock's eyebrow rose dubiously, but he didn't protest out loud. Leonard shrugged slightly in acknowledgement – it was a miniscule victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Because, if only for a half-blind moment, Jim had needed Winona.

And she had been there.

* * *

A/N: I hope two panic attacks in as many chapters isn't too much... But I think this was a good way to advance their relationship. (I think I'm too dependent on characters nearly dying, so I'm practicing other methods of bringing characters closer.) Plus, I'm a sucker for panic-attack-whump, ever since falling in love with Iron Man 3...


	5. Chapter 5

Spock watched McCoy gently guide Jim down the corridor. Beside the turbolift, Mr. Scott muttered under his breath as he stood up. "I'll send someone else down here later. Engineering is stretched pretty thin – the lift can wait, methinks."

Spock glanced at the dim lighting, suddenly realizing the red alert had ceased blaring. "Logical."

Scott nodded. "Well, I know ye dinnae believe in such things, but good luck wi' her."

Lowering his gaze to the mother still kneeling on the turbolift floor, Spock let out a breath. "The sentiment is appreciated, Mr. Scott."

Scott left rather quickly, either impatient to return to fixing his ship, or eager to escape the awkward situation. Spock had to fight the urge to shoot a longing glance down the corridor, or call Nyota. He wasn't _completely_ useless when it came to human emotions. Or was that just with Nyota and Jim? Well, this woman shared half of Jim's DNA…

Deciding he simply needed to get her to the shelter of her quarters, he found the words to say. "Ms. Swan?"

She didn't react. He took a step forward, stopping just outside of the turbolift. "Ms. Swan?" he tried again. Still nothing. Softer, more hesitantly, he tried "Ms. Kirk?"

She shuddered. "Maybe I shouldn't have changed my name," she breathed, almost too quiet for even Spock's Vulcan ears to pick up. "George wouldn't have had a choice if our positions were reversed."

 _Perhaps you should think of your living son instead of your dead husband,_ Spock thought. He refrained from expressing the sentiment aloud, unsure if she even meant for him to hear.

Louder, she said, "Your mother – you brought her up a lot."

"Yes," Spock confirmed warily.

"You two are close?"

He felt the faint waver in his voice, the waver he could never stop. "We were, yes."

If she noticed the correction, she didn't show it. "How did you do it? A human and a Vulcan…"

"Half," Spock corrected. "I believe the first most important part of a relationship – any relationship, be it parent and child, friends, lovers, husband and wife – is accepting that the other person is a unique being. My mother accepted me when I was Vulcan, protected me when I was human, and cared for me regardless."

"I'm doing that, though," she protested in despair.

Even though her back was to him, Spock shook his head. "I believe that you believe you are doing. However, all Jim hears is you comparing him to his father – and frankly, that is what also I have heard. Even now, most of his actions are devoted to separating himself from that legacy, just as I once tried to separate myself from my mother's species – I still do, on occasion. But Jim has a tendency to take it to a dangerous extreme. Doctor McCoy and I have spent years trying to figure out why, and attempting to stop him, but we have failed. Now, I believe I understand why: You."

Finally, Swan turned around. "What?" she exclaimed defensively.

Spock spread his hands out. "I meant no offense. Jim, apparently, spent his early childhood believing he was too similar to his father to be loved – because of you. This belief has carried on, especially now that he is in Starfleet and quickly becoming not only respected, but a legendary captain. McCoy, myself, Admiral Pike, Nyota, and several others have done our best to 'fix' this mindset, but have thus far been unsuccessful. But the effects of your presence are beginning to point to the conclusion that your opinion means far more to Jim than even he consciously admits to."

Swan arched an eyebrow. "Really? Is this what Jim caring looks like?" she asked drily.

"No, this is what Jim trying not to care looks like. His anger is his defense mechanism. He is trying to push you out of his life. Admittedly, this is the worst it has ever been, but the implication is still the same: He cares, but he does not want anyone to know."

Hope began to bleed through her eyes. "And you know this for sure?"

Spock dipped his head. "As an expert on both repressing unwanted emotions and the behaviors of Jim Kirk, I know this for sure."

Slowly, she stood up. "So what do you suggest?"

Spock's head tilted to the side as he pondered a response. "Get to know Jim. Look at how he is different from his father, without interfering."

She snorted. "How am I supposed to do that? He seizes up every time I'm in the same room as him."

"On Earth, today is October 31st, and there is to be a Halloween party at 1730 hours. Jim would never miss a party."

"Well, George hated those. Sounds like a decent place to start."

-LLAP-

"Bones, I have been planning this for _ages._ Pleeeeaaaaaase let me go."

 _God, give me patience._ "Jim, you had your worst panic attack to date just this morning, on top of an injury."

"So my shoulder's dislocated. Big deal."

"I know it's killing you despite your denial, and I'm just saying I don't think you're emotionally ready for a party right now."

"Come on, Bones – Uhura's making Spock dress up, and I _know_ you're dying to see that, but if I'm stuck in medbay you can't go to the party."

 _Damn it, kid._ "Fine. But I am restricting your alcohol to nothing."

Beside him, Jim gave a little jump. "Yay!"

"How old are you? Seriously, you're acting like a little kid."

"It's a Halloween party, Bones – is there any other way to act?"

Leonard rolled his eyes. Honestly, Jim could've been released from medbay as soon as his shoulder was relocated and his arm put in a sling. Neither one of them had protested prolonging his stay, though, a testament to how bad yesterday had been – Jim _hated_ being confined anywhere, and the endless complaining drove Leonard up the wall. Right now, though, it was secretly relieving. And he really did want to see the hobgoblin in a Halloween costume.

"I need a costume… So do you. Oooh, we could go as, uh, Hulk and Iron Man," Jim suggested. "You're totally grumpy enough to be Hulk, and I'm as awesome as Iron Man."

"Hell no. I am not going as a giant green guy."

"Science bros, Bones!"

"That is like 250 years old – no one is gonna understand it. How did you even find that?"

Jim shrugged. "I was bored. Tumblr was a very interesting site back in the 2010s."

Leonard groaned. "Why? How?"

Jim smirked. "Come on, it'll be fun," he coaxed.

"I will be Bruce Banner, _not_ the green guy. And you are _not_ replicating an Iron Man suit," Leonard acquiesced.

"Wait, how do _you_ know?"

"You used my PADD to find Tumblr."

"Makes sense."

"How the _heck_ are you the best captain in the fleet?"

Jim slipped on a pair of safety goggles. "Because I'm Captain Kirk."

"Go replicate our costumes, idiot," Leonard ordered affectionately. "I've got work to finish before we go."

Jim bounced off, but his energy faltered when he thought Leonard wasn't looking. Leonard's heart sank as he began to wonder how much of this was just an act. Just another way of shrugging off the help he needed.

-LLAP-

An hour later, Leonard wore a white lab coat over a blue plaid shirt and jeans; Jim wore a long-sleeved black shirt with a glowing arc reactor over his chest, black pants, and sneakers, fake facial hair completing the costume. He had, of course, complained about the sling, but Leonard had firmly vetoed taking it off. They were late, in classic Jim fashion, but no one really minded.

Jim grinned. "Look," he said, nodding at a table in the far corner.

Leonard nearly burst out laughing. "Oh, I love Uhura."

Jim led the way over to the couple. Spock sat in the corner, looking distinctly uncomfortable even though he just wore a black trench coat over a tie and tuxedo. A classic Sherlock Holmes deerstalker sat on the table in front of him, being contemplated like a strange alien device that might blow up in Spock's face. Uhura sat beside him, wearing a floaty white Marilyn Monroe dress and a blonde wig.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes and Ms. Monroe," Jim greeted, grinning like an idiot. Leonard was trying too hard not to die of laughter to talk.

"It is not that amusing, Doctor," Spock muttered, shooting a reproachful glance at Uhura.

"Ignore him," Uhura urged Spock, taking his hand in hers. "You look fine."

"Put on the hat," Leonard managed.

"No."

"Jim, please-"

Jim elbowed him. "That's not the proper way to use my rank."

"Don't give me that – you do it all the time!"

Jim flashed an innocent smile and dropped into a chair, rubbing his upper arm with a wince. All three glanced at him, and he dropped his hand. "What? I'm fine."

"Right. You're going straight back to your quarters once you're done here," Leonard ordered.

Jim gave a one-shouldered shrug a second before his eyes latched onto something. "Why is _she_ here?"

They twisted to follow his gaze, realizing he had seen his mother. "Who's she?" Uhura asked.

"I invited her," Spock spoke up.

"You _what?"_

"We had a brief conversation after you went to the medical bay. She is not here to talk to you, I assure you. Just – I believe the phrase is 'act natural.'"

Leonard blinked. "Naturalistic observation?"

Spock nodded.

"Huh. I think that's actually smart."

"Who is she?" Uhura repeated, an edge to her voice.

Jim glanced at Spock. "You didn't tell her?"

"It is not my information to share."

"Oh," Jim said. He settled back in his chair, faith in Spock's judgement restored. Leveling a nervous look at his mother, he answered Uhura's question. And, for the duration of his time at the party, he managed to act mostly natural.

-LLAP-

Jokester. Caring. Loyal. Young. Intelligent. Strong.

Respected, but easy for lower-ranking crewmembers to approach. Playboy, but never getting serious – a girlfriend not onboard the ship?

Winona stuck to the edge of the party, talking only when spoken to, and never mentioning her relationship to Jim. She spent the night assembling a list of adjectives and phrases to describe her son, isolating differences between George and Jim. George hadn't been a playboy; Jim appeared to have twice his brainpower, easily keeping up with his Vulcan first officer when others around him looked lost. George had been strict about rank, but Jim mingled with ensigns and lieutenant commanders no differently. Jim also had a fondness for alcohol, despite Doctor McCoy's repeated attempts to keep him away from it, whereas George had despised the stuff.

 _They really are two different people._

She left the party a few minutes after Jim and his three friends, rehearsing ways to talk to him that didn't involve comparing him to his father.

* * *

A/N: I literally have no idea where that Marvel/Tumblr conversation came from... It just happened. And Spock dressing up. I don't know, maybe it's cause I'm having a Halloween party tonight with my friends (which never happens, cause I'm veeeeeeeery much an introvert) and I'm dressing up as Pietro from Age of Ultron... Anyway, I don't _think_ it detracted from the story, but maybe my gut instinct is lying to me... But hey, as a quote I found on Google says: "Take risks: If you win, you will be happy. If you lose, you will be wise." (And we all know how wise Google is.)


	6. Chapter 6

Jim rolled over.

He read the clock – 0300 – and groaned. Only thirteen more hours until Beta shift. Why, why, _why_ had he given himself a later shift today? Sure, it had been set long before his mother came aboard – shifts were switched once every two weeks, for a little excitement – but he was the captain and could've changed it. He didn't _want_ to have free time right now. Two hours, and all he'd done was toss and turn during what felt like an eternity.

Bones wouldn't be awake. He'd made that quite clear when he dropped Jim off. Would Spock be awake? They could play chess. Or was that too needy? Spock and Uhura probably had enough problems without Jim dragging him away all the time, Spock being Vulcan and all. Carol? No. He'd have to explain everything, and he kind of didn't want to do that right now.

His shoulder throbbed. A painkiller sat on his nightstand. Jim contemplated it, wondering if he should use it. It might help him sleep. But sleeping brought nightmares. And nightmares brought panic attacks.

"Computer, where is Commander Spock?"

 _"Commander Spock is on the observation deck."_

"And Lieutenant Uhura?"

 _"Lieutenant Uhura is in Commander Spock's quarters."_

So, something was bugging Spock, too – otherwise, he would be with her. They still technically had separate quarters, but she spent most of her nights in his quarters, and her stuff had gradually migrated there over the years. But if Spock had planned to spend the night away from his quarters, she would be in her own quarters. So, Spock probably hadn't planned his trip to the observation lounge.

 _Screw it._

Jim hauled himself out of bed, pulling on a jacket and making an unplanned trip of his own. He brushed against the walls, taking comfort from his ship's quiet vibrations. The walk was both long and short, and suddenly he was in the same room as a crying Vulcan.

Well, not really full-blown crying, as humans did – but there was definitely a tear track on his left cheek. Like that day in front of the warp core. That day they never really talked about, because some things didn't need words. It had happened, it had changed them, and that was all they needed.

He tried to back out, but Spock had already noticed him. "Jim," he muttered, hurriedly wiping his cheek dry, stowing something in the pocket of his hoodie with his other hand.

"I can go-"

Spock shook his head. "It was illogical to think I would not eventually be found in a public room. I just did not want to disturb Nyota."

"So she thinks you're sleeping?"

Spock looked almost sheepish. "Perhaps."

Jim chuckled. "We're really rubbing off on you. You need to visit New Vulcan."

He hadn't meant anything by it, but Spock's eyes still shifted away at the reminder. He might even have flinched a bit this time.

"Wait, is that why you're here?"

"Why are you here?" Spock evaded.

Jim barely aborted a shrug in time. "Couldn't sleep, I guess."

"Or you did not want to?"

"Maybe."

Spock paused, then walked to a cabinet and pulled out a 3D chess set. Wordlessly, Jim helped him set it up, and they settled on the floor to play. For them, it was a classic waiting game – who would talk first? And in the meantime, a logical game to help clear their thoughts.

After half an hour, Jim plucked up the courage to talk. "I just don't want another panic attack."

Spock glanced at him, even as he focused on countering Jim's latest move. "Understandable. However, you need to sleep."

"Deceiving your fiancé isn't very good for your health, either," Jim countered, narrowing his eyes as Spock made his move.

"I may have already ruined our dinner yesterday. I did not wish to disturb her sleep tonight."

A grin fought to show on Jim's face, but he squashed it – Spock was hilariously terrified of Uhura at times, just like a lot of humans. It seemed to be a species-spanning, universal constant.

"How'd you ruin dinner? She didn't seem mad at you."

Spock focused intently on the board. "It was not something she would be irritated by."

Jim suddenly remembered the timing of their dinner. "You couldn't stop thinking about your mother, could you?"

Spock took a breath to say something, but didn't. A moment later, he simply said "Correct."

"Is she why you were crying?"

Spock tensed, and silence reined again. Then, abruptly, he pulled out whatever he'd put in his pocket and slid it across the floor to Jim.

It was a paper picture of a young, grinning woman and a baby. The woman wasn't familiar, but her eyes were identical to Spock's – his mother. The baby had tiny, pointed ears – and wore a cat costume onesie.

"Spock, is this-"

"Me and my mother. She was on Earth, taking me to meet my maternal grandparents for the first time. She carried this picture every day, until I left for Starfleet, at which point she gave it to me. Even my father does not know it exists."

Jim understood this was very serious and personal, but _those ears._ "Tell me, if you and Uhura ever have a kid, her ears will look like this."

Spock shot him a deadpan glance.

"Sorry. I just- you made a very cute cat," Jim mumbled, handing the picture back. "So Uhura getting you to dress up reminded you of her, and you didn't want to bug her about your mother again?"

Spock nodded.

"You know she wouldn't mind, right? Especially if she gets to see that picture for the first time. I mean, it wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Just as it would not hurt you to talk to your mother again."

Jim sighed. "Point taken," he conceded, suddenly too tired to argue. Silence, comfortable this time, no more words needed now, took over. They played their game of chess, content once again.

-LLAP-

The door chime rang.

Leonard read the clock – 0700 – and groaned. He had Beta shift today, which meant he should've been able to sleep in since it started at 1600 hours, which he needed after getting back to his quarters after 0100 thanks to the party. Jim had been more than reluctant to go to bed – to be alone. Leonard understood this, but sometimes, a bit of alone time was necessary.

The door chimed again.

"What?" he demanded.

"It's Winona."

 _Winona?_ "What are you doing here?"

"I… I want to talk. About Jim."

Leonard sighed. "All right. Gimme a minute – _some_ of us sleep early in the morning."

She didn't respond, but he thought he heard a laugh. He hurriedly threw on a clean uniform and brushed his teeth, fingercombing his hair as he stepped outside. She opened her mouth to talk, but he forestalled her with a raised hand, saying "Coffee first."

Winona followed obligingly as he headed for the mess hall, which was blessedly empty – most people were either asleep or getting ready for Alpha shift, while the unlucky Gamma shift members were stuck at their stations until 0800. Winona waited patiently while he replicated and drowned two cups of coffee, finally turning to her as he held a third.

"Sorry. I didn't fall asleep until after 0100, and things could've gotten ugly. Now, what about Jim?"

"I want to talk to him again."

"No," Leonard said instantly.

"Doctor-"

"He's not ready, not today. Doctor's orders."

Winona's gaze turned pleading, and damn, it looked like Jim's puppy eyes. "Please."

Leonard shook his head. "He needs a normal-ish day. It's been two months since his last panic attack, and since you've come aboard, he's had two very severe ones. I know you mean well, and I know Spock actually gave you decent advice last night, but he's not ready. It would only push him further away."

Winona bit her lip. "Fine. I'll wait."

She turned and walked towards the door, leaving Leonard astonished. "What, that's it? You won't even fight for your son?"

She looked back at him. "What do you want me to do? You said no."

Leonard took a step closer, setting his coffee down. "I want you to _act_ like a parent."

"I am," she snapped.

"No, you're not. You're acting like a friend, and not even a close one."

"What would _you_ know?"

"Because I have a daughter," Leonard shot back. "A daughter I haven't seen in six years."

"Wow, you're such a great father," Winona scoffed.

"Her mother _divorced_ me, and I got absolute squat in the alimony. But that didn't stop me from fighting tooth-and-nail, even though it's gotten me nowhere. You _chose_ to leave Jim, and now you think it's going to be easy to just slip right back into his life?"

"Of course I don't-"

"Well, I haven't seen you doing much fighting. We tell you to back off, and you do almost instantly."

Winona stepped towards him, her fists beginning to clench – in irritation, not anger. "You and Commander Spock haven't given me much of a choice."

"That's _on purpose._ You don't deserve to be in Jim's life if you won't fight for your place in it."

"He hasn't done much fighting to be in mine, either!"

"Give him something worth fighting for, and he'll fight like hell."

"I am his _mother."_

"By blood. I saw you guys yesterday – it's clear you both want to reunite. For a moment, both of you dropped your walls, but they sprung right back up. I get it – God knows I've got my own walls."

"But?"

"But you didn't fight. You let him pull away, you let me take him."

"It's what he wanted, though."

"I know. But being a parent isn't about caving to your kid's every want – it's about taking care of their best interests, helping them grow into the best person they can be. You can't do that if you give in when, on the surface, he wants you to go away – it only deepens his belief that you don't want him. Which means you need to fight him, me, Spock, and maybe even yourself, because that's how Jim Kirk _knows_ you want to be close to him."

Winona groaned.

"This was never going to be easy, on any of us. Spock and I, we don't want to see Jim hurting, but you're tearing open old, partially-healed wounds. That's not necessarily bad – Jim's healed that way before. But if you don't figure this out in the next few days, he'll never heal, and he'll never let you try again. But Jim still isn't talking to you today, so take this opportunity to do some research – on the computer, talk to the crew, whatever – on what it means to be a parent and who Jim is. Am I understood?"

Winona hesitated, thoughts flickering through her eyes, before nodding. "All right."

"Good. Now, I'm going back to my quarters for some well-deserved rest. Or just to read a book."

He left Winona standing in the middle of the mess hall. If she was as similar to her son as Leonard thought, she would now be plotting and scheming – just as he wanted.

* * *

A/N: I'm apparently very productive when I should be asleep (and I also have no idea if rested-me will think this is any good or not, but sleepy-me is posting anyway - it worked for chapter one, right?). But who needs to be awake in school, anyway? Not like I pay attention anyway...


	7. Chapter 7

"So this is where you slipped off to."

Jim flinched awake, the movement sending him sliding down the wall. His neck and back protested, stiff from – had he fallen asleep on the wall? The chessboard sat in front of him, the game unfinished. On the board's other side, Spock was beginning to stand, self-consciously smoothing his hoodie. Jim rolled onto his back, finding himself looking up at the half-exasperated, half-affectionate faces of Bones and Uhura.

"You were supposed to rest in bed, idjit," Bones rebuked Jim.

"I tried?" Jim offered with a sheepish grin. Bones rolled his eyes and extended his hand. Taking it, Jim hauled himself to his feet.

"I simply did not wish-"

"To disturb me? I was still awake when you left."

Spock blinked. "You did not say anything."

Uhura shrugged, picking a piece of lint off Spock's shoulder. "I figured you were pretty distracted if you didn't even realize I was awake. But really, Spock? Sleeping with Jim?"

Spock's cheeks flushed bright green. Uhura grinned, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "Come on, you need a fresh uniform," she said, taking his hand and leading him away.

Bones groaned. "I live on a ship of infants."

"I distinctly remember Scotty mentioning something at the party about you thinking he thought we were-"

"Shut up! I have a hypo and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Nope, shift starts in- when does shift start?"

"Ten minutes. You'll be late."

"No I won't-"

Bones clapped a hand over his uninjured shoulder, steering him out the door. "I want to take a look at your shoulder before you go to your precious bridge."

Jim dug his heels in, struggling to return to his quarters to change into his uniform. "Bones, I'm fine."

"You're fine when I say you are. Now, this'll go much faster if you stop fighting."

Jim froze, suddenly back in front of Kodos, biting his tongue to not give away anything about his kids.

"Hey, Jim, come back to the present."

The glowing white corridors faded back into view, and he sucked in a deep breath to slow his accelerating heartbeat. "Sorry," Jim mumbled.

"It's not your fault," Bones rebuked gently. "Now will you just go to medbay?"

"Fine…"

"Wonderful."

Bones kept a hand on his shoulder as they walked to medbay, probably to prevent him from running off. Jim dragged his feet the whole way, futilely hoping Bones would give up if he took long enough. Of course, the tenacious Georgian doctor never gave up on a patient, so he ended up shirtless on a biobed a few minutes later – although he was free of the sling, at least for a minute. Small blessings…

A medical tricorder whirred to life. Jim glanced at it in surprise. "For my shoulder? Really?"

"I'm the doctor, not you," Bones retorted, not looking up.

Bones and an indirect answer. Not good. "This isn't just about my shoulder, is it?"

Hazel eyes flickered to Jim's face and away again. Bones remained silent, but Jim had discovered he had a way of ruining a few people's poker faces. He leaned away from the tricorder, reaching for his shirt. "Bones, I'm fine."

Bones reached out and stopped his hand. "You're fine when I say you're fine, kid."

Jim tugged his hand free. "I have a job to do, Bones. Is my shoulder good?"

"You need a proper night's sleep in a proper bed, Jim."

"Well, that ain't happening while my mom is here, so is my shoulder good?" Jim snapped.

Bones smirked triumphantly. "You called her your mom."

"Slip of the tongue."

"No, it wasn't. You wanted her in that turbolift."

"I did _not._ I didn't realize it was her at first."

Jim heard his mistake too late, and Bones jumped on it. "'At first,' eh? Yeah, Jim, you definitely don't want her back in your life."

Jim snatched up his shirt, but his attempt to dramatically storm out was ruined by the fact that his shoulder was still stiff and painful – Bones caught him easily while he was still trying to put his shirt on so he _could_ leave. Stupid dress codes.

"Running never got you anywhere, Jim. You know that."

"Yeah, well, I didn't run from Kodos or Frank, and look what happened there," Jim muttered.

"Ok, maybe not running doesn't always work, either. But think of when you didn't run – you fought Nero, and ended up with a new family. You didn't run from your love for Carol, and you gained your first serious girlfriend."

"Those were different," Jim protested.

"Were they? You like facing impossible odds, Jim, be it a Romulan ship that made the fleet's flagship look like a 20th century computer, or flat-out breaking fraternization rules because you love a woman. You looked death and transfer dead in the eye, and won the most precious things in your life because you stayed and fought for them. This time, it's overcoming a lifetime of bad memories. I know it's hard, especially memories like yours – but the reward? Isn't it worth it to have your mother back?"

Jim focused on the floor, hearing the truth in Bones's words. Bones wrapping a supportive arm around him when he was hurt, Carol hugging him so he could fall back asleep after a nightmare – those times, he felt cared for, safe, after a little convincing. The other day in the turbolift, though, with his mother holding him… He'd _known._ Instantly. As soon as he'd heard her voice, he'd _known_ he was safe, and he was _almost_ willing to stay in her arms. It was almost like what he got from Carol and Bones, but with an extra… something. He'd been wondering if that was what a mother's love felt like. He'd even found himself wanting more – not that he'd admitted it to anyone, let alone himself. Until now.

Bones slowly let go, not needing verbal confirmation to know where Jim's thoughts were going. "You don't have to wear the sling, but don't strain your shoulder."

Jim cleared his throat before trusting his voice. "All right."

"Now put your shirt on and go do your job. I've got my own to do, too, ya know."

Jim grinned even as he rolled his eyes. "You remind me every time I'm in here. Which is a lot. So, yeah, I know."

Bones tossed a uniform gold shirt at him, laughing as it landed on Jim's head and covered his face. "Good."

"Yeah," Jim muttered. "I'm good."

-LLAP-

"Fascinating."

Jim leaned over his first officer's station, looking at the scans of the planet the _Enterprise_ had stumbled upon about halfway through Beta shift. "You got that right. A whole planet Starfleet never knew about; Class M and everything."

"A flourishing ecosystem. Captain, this planet appears to have immense potential for a new colony," Spock reported.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, they've been wanting one of those for a while. Better check it out ASAP, make Headquarters happy with us for a change."

"Yeah, they don't like us nearly getting their best crew killed all the time," Sulu joked.

"Or zeir best ship destroyed," Chekov chirped.

Jim grinned, straightening up. "Spock, do all your preliminary scans. I wanna know a good time to go down."

"Yes, Captain."

Jim paused before comming medbay. "How do you think Bones is gonna react this time?"

Sulu chuckled. "Not well, sir."

"We should bet on what he protests first: Ze captain being injured, or _anozer_ away mission," Chekov suggested, a mischievous grin lighting his young face. "I bet on anozer away mission."

"We're a bad influence on you, Chekov," Jim muttered, shaking his head.

"I'm betting on the captain being injured," Sulu countered.

Before the rest of his bridge crew could fall in line, Jim commed him. "Bones! We found a new planet to explore."

Bones's cranky voice replied. _"'We?' You're injured."_

"We'll discuss payment later," Sulu whispered to Chekov. The young man slumped, donning his best puppy face to get out of it, but Sulu merely crossed his arms and stared back.

"You should know by now not to gamble with Sulu, Chekov, especially about Bones," Jim scolded him. Because he was completely, one hundred percent innocent of doing the exact same thing, and therefore wasn't being a hypocrite. At all.

 _"Wait, what?"_ Bones demanded.

"Gotta go, Bones."

 _"Don't you dar-"_

Jim ended the comm. "I saw you roll your eyes, Uhura."

Uhura coughed violently, but it sounded suspiciously like "Testosterone."

Jim turned to look at her, his eyebrow raised, but she was focusing dutifully on her station. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, Carol will be back in a few days, and you two can fake cough together."

"Trust me – I've been counting down since she left."

The doors to the bridge whooshed open. Upon turning to see who the visitor was, Jim's good mood vanished instantly. He stepped forward, halfway between his chair and Spock's station, forcing himself to stand tall instead of leaning on either one.

"Get off the bridge."

His mother planted her feet in an infuriatingly familiar stance. "We need to talk."

"Not now," Jim growled. "I'm working."

"A captain's work never stops, just as a mother's never stops," she retorted. His bridge crew, save Spock and Uhura, exchanged confused and startled glances.

"Get off my bridge," Jim ordered.

She took a step closer. "You can't ignore me forever, Jim."

"I never said I wouldn't, I just said _not now._ Cupcake, escort her back to her quarters."

Cupcake stepped forward. "Ma'am."

His mother turned a soul-piercing glare on his Chief of Security. "I'm having a conversation with my son, if you don't mind."

To his credit, Cupcake managed not to flinch. "I do mind, ma'am. If you'll just come with me-" he stated, taking hold of her arm to escort her away. In a blur, she twisted free and punched Cupcake in the face, blood spurting from his now-broken nose. Jim stared in shock, but she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Who do you think taught your brother how to punch? Not your father, that's for sure – he hated fighting."

Wait. A _difference_ between him and his dad? Still a comparison, but…

"Fine," he muttered. "Cupcake, go to medbay. Spock-"

"Alone," his mother added.

"-you have the conn."

Spock stood up. "Is this wise?" he murmured, trying to be discreet despite the fact that all eyes were already on them.

"Probably not, but things between us can't get much worse, can they?"

Spock conceded the point with a nod, stepping back. Jim took a deep breath to steady himself before leading his mother off the bridge to an isolated alcove.

"What do you want?"

She softened. "Sorry about that. I just needed to talk without your bodyguards."

Jim pointed at the wall comm. beside them. "They can be here at a moment's notice."

"I know, I know. I just didn't want to wait."

"Wait for what? We could've had this talk anytime, not in the middle of my shift."

She met his eyes. "Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock have given me some advice, and I think I understand how I've been approaching this – you – wrong. I think you were right – I was looking for him. But now I know: You're not him. You never were. Comparisons are inevitable, because I love you both so much, and you're very much his son – but I see _you_ now. My son. Jim."

She still sounded like she was convincing herself of that fact, but only honesty gleamed in her eyes.

"I realize now that I never should have ignored you, never should have left you. I claimed it was because I thought it was the right thing to do, but really, you were just so _similar_ to him, and I couldn't cope with that. It made me do all the wrong things. I know I left you with nothing but bad memories, but I _want_ to fix that. I _need_ to."

 _"Do you understand why I went back for you?"_

She was saying essentially the same thing. She had come back, and he needed to know why before they could move on.

"So did you come back for me or him?" Jim murmured, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

His mother paused. "I honestly don't know. Maybe both… Maybe I came back because I know he never would have wanted his death to tear us apart, but I _know_ I'm staying because I want to finally be the mother you always deserved."

Silence fell. Jim searched her body language for any hints of deception, but saw only a desperate yearning and utter sincerity.

Hesitantly, she reached up, her fingertips brushing through his hair. Jim tensed, grabbing her hand to move it – but found he didn't want to, instead beginning to lean into the caress. Tears began to fill her eyes, a relieved smile growing on her face.

The wall comm. beeped. _"Captain?"_

They jumped apart. Jim slapped the button. "Dammit, Spock, don't do that."

 _"Do what?"_ Spock inquired, his voice's pitch slightly higher – confusion? It was always harder to tell over a comm.

"Never mind. What do you want?"

 _"Now is an optimal time to beam down to the planet. If you are not too busy."_

"It's fine. Ten minutes. Me, you, Bones, and Sulu."

 _"Yes, Captain. Spock out."_

Jim shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I have a planet to explore…"

"Yeah, go," his mother murmured. "We'll finish this later."

-LLAP-

Spock was just tucking his phaser into its holster when Jim jogged into the transporter room, a solid three minutes late. "Sorry," he said brightly.

"Jim, how do you _always_ manage to be late?" McCoy scolded.

"You're just nervous about the transporters."

"It ain't natural!"

"We know, Doctor," Spock interceded drily.

Jim bounced onto the transporter pad. McCoy smiled to himself, and Spock knew he had reached the same conclusion: Jim's talk with his mother had gone well.

Now, if this away mission could experience the same fortune, this would be a successful week.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the slightly extended wait, but school and The Flash got in the way (blind Barry was super adorable, and my fanfic inspiration focused on that instead of this...). Anyway, I took a couple steps to try to prevent my inspiration from wandering again (cause this, ironically, happened right after getting a review mentioning how refreshing it is to have someone who updates regularly...). Anyway, I hope this was worth the wait.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: The last chapter was not meant to be an ending - sorry about any confusion. I'm probably gonna tweak the ending a teensy bit sometime in the near future.

* * *

It was a little cold, but this was definitely one of the prettiest planets they'd explored in the last few years. They'd beamed down in the middle of a field, lush grass reaching up to Jim's ankles, delicate red flowers dotting the ground. A few hundred yards to their left, a forest began, the trees resembling Earth's oaks. A stream lazily wound its way towards the forest, thin enough to be jumped over, its water sparkling and clear. To their right, in the distance, was a mountain range with snowcapped peaks. A deep blue sky arched above them, not a cloud in sight.

At least, thirty minutes ago there hadn't been. Now, charcoal clouds obscured the sunlight, casting a shadow so dark Jim could barely make out the ground ten feet away from him.

Jim flipped open his communicator. "Scotty, beam us up."

 _"Somethin' is interferin' wi' the transporters, Cap'n – I can only beam ye up one at a time."_

"Do that, then. Start with Sulu," Jim decided.

 _"Aye, Cap'n."_

For a moment, nothing happened. Then white tendrils of light flickered to life, swirling around Sulu, making him disappear in a blinding flash. Blinking to clear the spots in his vision, Jim ordered "Bones next."

"I'm fine," Bones muttered, nervously glancing upwards.

"It is logical you beam up next," Spock pointed out.

"Shut up, hobgoblin."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Any time now, Scotty."

Silence. Not even static.

"Scotty, you there?" Jim asked, fiddling with the settings. "Scotty? _Enterprise_?"

"If I may, Captain?"

Jim handed Spock his communicator. The Vulcan began by messing with the settings, eventually flipping it over and prying off the casing to look at the wires. After a few minutes, he gave it back. "The communicator is functioning perfectly. It is either the _Enterprise_ or something on this planet interfering with communications."

"I knew it," Bones groaned. "Next thing that happens is gonna be deadly lightning."

"Been there, done that, Bones. This time it'll probably be something like acid rain."

Spock pulled out his tricorder. "Readings show this is just a storm."

"And what exactly does that entail for this planet?" Jim inquired. "Because 'just a storm' has meant bad things on several planets."

"It appears to simply be equivalent to Earth's thunderstorms."

"Either way, let's try to avoid the lightning. I don't want to have to treat either of you for burns right now."

The first clap of thunder sounded, loud enough that Jim _felt_ the vibrations in his extremities. Following almost instantly, wind sprang to life, powerful enough to make all three of them stumble backwards. Cold raindrops began to pour, colliding with his exposed skin like pricks of ice. Jim flung up one arm to shield his face. Lightning stabbed down, lighting a bush on fire, but the rain quickly extinguished it.

Survival instincts kicked in. The field was better for protection from lightning, but the rain and wind were ice cold for a human – Jim didn't want to imagine how desert-adapted Spock felt in it. Choosing between certain hypothermia and possibly getting struck by lightning, Jim decided on taking their chances with lightning.

"Get to the trees!" Jim yelled. Half-dragging Bones with him, Jim sprinted for their shelter, hoping Spock was right behind them.

Jim nearly fell over when the wind speed suddenly dropped, he'd been fighting it so much; Bones saved him from smacking into a tree. "I… hate… this," the doctor panted.

"Spock?" Jim called, not bothering to argue.

"Here," Spock responded, coming to a halt beside Jim. With his uniform plastered to his thin frame and his head ducked against the rain, Spock looked almost miserable. Jim clapped him on the shoulder, wincing at how cold Spock felt beneath his hand.

The trees protected them from the worst of the wind and rain, but they needed real shelter – and a better place to hide from lightning. Jim surveyed the area, trying to remember what the forest had looked like when he and Bones explored earlier.

"We need to go deeper in," Jim announced.

Bones looked up sharply. "What? Shouldn't we stay nearer the beam-up site?"

Jim shook his head. "The edge is where the isolated trees are, and they're more likely to act like lightning rods. If it weren't so cold, we'd still be in the field."

"I hate this."

"You have made your view perfectly clear," Spock snapped.

"Shouldn't your scans have detected the storm before it stranded us here?" Bones retorted, stepping towards the Vulcan.

"Weather can often be as unpredictable as you are irrational," Spock shot back.

"Irrational? Don't-"

"Guys!" Jim interrupted, stepping between them. "Not now."

"He's being-"

Jim silenced him with a glare. "I don't care, because he's right. I saw the scans myself, but that doesn't matter now. What matters now is that we're stuck in the middle of a potentially deadly storm, and we've gotta protect ourselves as best as we can. Got it?"

Bones dropped his gaze. "Yeah," he mumbled.

Lightning arced through the sky, almost immediately followed by another booming clap of thunder. Bones rubbed his ear while Spock cast a wary glance at the sky, and Jim suddenly realized how entirely unprepared they were for this, in their own unique ways. Mentally shaking off the thought, Jim picked a direction and walked.

 _One away mission. Can't we just have_ one _go right?_

-LLAP-

Winona stared at Scotty. "It _has_ to work."

The Scottish engineer stared despairingly at the console's readouts. "It crashed. We cannae beam 'em up."

"But-"

Lieutenant Sulu cut her off. "How long?"

"An hour, a' least. It's residual damage from the meteor. Should'a been fixed a'ready."

Scotty added the last part under his breath and, after spending plenty of time with him over the last few days (he was very welcoming, ecstatic to show off the _Enterprise_ 's engines to someone who cared), Winona knew he was running through a list of people to berate after Jim and the others were safely aboard. Surprisingly, he didn't protest as she impulsively leaned over and checked a few things for herself; he didn't even make an "I told ye so" gesture after she straightened in defeat. He simply pressed the button to comm. the bridge.

"Transporter room to bridge. Ensign Chekov?"

 _"Here, sir. What's ze problem?"_

"The transporter is malfunctionin'."

 _"Are ze away team members onboard?"_ Chekov asked, urgency quickening his young voice.

"Lieutenant Sulu is, aye, bu' no' the cap'n, Commander Spock, or Doc McCoy."

Chekov's next word was barely loud enough to hear, Russian, and likely not professional in the slightest. _"When ken you beam zem back?"_

"I dinnae know fer sure, bu' it's top priority. Obviously."

 _"Work fast, Meester Scott."_

As Scotty knelt down to check underneath, Winona leaned over. "How bad is the storm?"

There was a moment's pause before Chekov replied. _"Bad. Do we hawe contact wiz ze team?"_

Opening a separate channel, Winona tried, but received only static. "Negative," she replied, already running diagnostics. "And I don't think it's the ship."

For a couple moments, Chekov said nothing, and she began to think he'd hung up. But when he spoke, her heart sank, and she found herself wishing he had.

 _"Scans are detecting some sort of interference from ze atmosphere. It is likely not zeir communicators, eizer."_

If it wasn't the ship, and it wasn't their communicators, there was _nothing_ they could do but wait, and Winona had a strict policy against being helpless. As, she suspected, did her son, although he'd likely be busy trying to survive the storm, not fixing communicators that weren't broken. For once, she prayed he remembered his experience on Tarsus IV – but given the way he'd looked in the hospital, he remembered in crystal clarity. A mind as brilliant as his didn't just forget that.

Winona dragged her thoughts back to the situation. "Is there a way to cut through?"

 _"We hawe newer seen zis kind of interference before, but we will try. Chekov out."_

"I'll go help them," Sulu stated. Winona didn't look up as he jogged away, unable to repress the image of the boy on the hospital bed.

 _She stood in the doorway of the tiny hospital room. Well, maybe it only looked tiny because of the number of machines in there, every single one devoted to keeping her son alive. An IV fed him precious nutrients; he'd been intubated, and even a massive amount of bandages and splints couldn't make him look like a normal-sized thirteen year-old-boy. She couldn't equate the near-lifeless skin-and-bones figure on the biobed to the lively, intelligent, bright-eyed boy he had been on Earth._

 _"Jim…" she breathed._

 _She forced herself forward, reaching out, but there was nowhere to hold him. He was just so_ fragile. _So… broken._

 _And it was her fault._

 _Tears slid down her cheeks, and she found herself wondering how many he'd cried because of her. Because she failed him. Every. Single. Time._

 _"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."_

 _She leaned over and delicately kissed his forehead, brushing her fingers through his hair. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, a decision already made. It would hurt him, at first, but her baby boy was as strong as his father – he'd get over it. A few last tears before he moved on, without her, to a better place than she had ever provided for him._

 _"For love," she breathed, mentally repeating it over and over as she fought to straighten, to back away, to turn around, to leave._

For love. How _blind_ she'd been, how _stupid._ McCoy had been right – love meant fighting, and she had just given up. Jim had been right to try to shove her away again, so she could learn.

"Can ye hand me m'tool kit?"

Scotty's voice jerked her out of her thoughts. "Um, yeah… Here," she said, snatching it up from the other side of the room.

"Thank ye."

The comm. beeped. _"Bridge to transporter room. Ms. Swan?"_

"I'm here."

 _"You have an incoming communique from Sam Kirk. Sending it to you now."_

The console dinged as a file arrived. She thanked the lieutenant as she opened it, her heart jolting as she comprehended the words it contained.

 _Hey, Mom. I know you're on vacation, but we need you back at the farm, ASAP. The crops… they're dying._

-LLAP-

Jim trudged on, Spock and Bones silent for once as they (literally) blindly followed him through the forest, hunched against the fierce wind and icy rain. Try as he might, Jim couldn't suppress the memories of leading his kids through Tarsus IV's forest, of their blind faith in him, of their dependence on him. Of course, Bones and Spock were older than him, but the other parallels, and just the _timing_ of this, shook him to his core.

 _I'm too young for this._

He cast a glance at the sky.

 _Mom? Tell me… Tell me you'll still be there if we get back. You will, right? I… I need you._

-LLAP-

Winona stared at the communique. Then at the transporter. Back to the communique. Back to the transporter.

Sam. Jim. Sam? Jim?

If Sam's crops died, he wouldn't be able to support his family through the winter, not on his own. Having researched and studied crop diseases since Tarsus, she could probably save them. If she didn't even try, Sam might never forgive her.

If she left the _Enterprise_ before Jim got back, he might never forgive her.

Choosing between two sons.

With trembling fingers, she typed a reply to Sam's communique.

 _This week was going so well._

* * *

A/N: Yay for cliffhangers - so fun to write. Anyway, I hope this isn't just dragging it out unnecessarily, but I didn't feel like this was finished - close, but not quite, like that moment in a TV show or book when everything's going well and then you realize there's still twenty minutes or fifty pages left and you start stressing about what's gonna happen. And about the thunderstorm safety stuff - I googled that and got somewhat conflicting responses, so I did my best to make it accurate. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and can't wait for the next chapter (but you'll have to... Eheheh)!


	9. Chapter 9

"There," Jim called over his shoulder, raising a hand to point at a tight cluster of trees. They stood half as tall as the others, their leaves broad and thick. From what Jim could see between interlocking branches, the ground beneath looked relatively dry and clear of undergrowth. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it was better shelter than wandering around. Bones lurched towards it, dropping his customary wary glare in favor of shelter; Spock followed more gracefully but just as eagerly; Jim waited until they were both safely inside before joining them, tension easing from his muscles as the wind force dropped to a mere breeze, the rain to a mere sprinkle.

"Thank God," Bones sighed, sinking to the ground.

Jim shook his head. "Balls of your feet," he corrected, dropping into a crouch. "And don't touch each other or the trees. Give me your metal stuff."

Spock obliged instantly. "What?" Bones protested.

Jim held out his hand. "Minimize contact with anything that could be struck by lightning. Would you rather have aching thighs or-?"

"All right, all right, I get it," Bones muttered, adjusting his position and handing over his phaser, communicator, and medkit. Jim placed them in a hollow between two trees, using Spock's tricorder for one last scan, flinching when lightning lit the sky again.

"Looks like the thunder and lightning should pass soon," Jim reported, turning it off and placing it atop the medkit.

"How soon is soon?" Bones asked, shooting a glance at his medkit.

"Why don't you go ask Mother Nature?"

"I'm not asking for me," Bones retorted, tipping his head at Spock.

As the attention suddenly shifted to him, Spock tensed. "I am fine," he insisted unconvincingly.

"Really, hobgoblin? Cause you're pale and getting paler."

Bones was right. While Spock was normally pale, he still had a healthy amount of color, but now his skin very nearly matched the _Enterprise_ 's walls – snow white. And now that Jim was looking, his uniform, plastered to his skin from rain, couldn't hide the tension in his muscles. Sure, the position they all crouched in was awkward, but with his Vulcan strength, Spock's efforts should have been all but unnoticeable – so it wasn't that. At least, not entirely.

"You know, shivering isn't a bad thing," Jim pointed out, his tone carefully neutral. Spock opened his mouth, closed it without a word, and promptly started shivering.

The wind rose to an eerie howl. Jim lowered his head to his knees, but the darkness of his black pants only helped the memories surface.

 _Crammed together for warmth, thirteen kids in one cave. The younger ones' sobs couldn't be heard over the storm raging outside, over the howling wind, the rain pounding the cave, the booming thunder. The oldest, Jim had taken his place at the edge near the entrance, where it was coldest and loudest. He stared blankly outside, seeing only his aunt and uncle screaming at him to take Kelly and run, seeing them fall, seeing their blank eyes, seeing his world fall apart._

 _"Jimmy?" a tiny voice squeaked behind him. Hiding how she'd startled him, Jimmy rolled over to face his cousin. Her pale purple skirt was in tatters, the dirt on her face streaked by tears, her blonde curls hanging limply, light green eyes shining with terror._

 _"You should be asleep," Jim whispered gently, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ears, just the way she liked it._

 _"What happened to Mommy and Daddy?"_

 _Jim's heart sank. His aunt and uncle… You weren't supposed to tell a five-year-old about death, right? Then how… "They, uh… They're taking a very long nap." He tried to sound strong, but dang it, he was_ thirteen. _This wasn't his division._

 _She blinked anyway, nodding. "Ok," she rasped, her voice trembling._

 _Jim reached out, pulling her close. "It'll be ok," he breathed as she curled against him and cried._

 _Outside, the storm raged._

 _Inside, a different storm raged._

"Jim."

He jerked back to the present, his head snapping up. "What?"

Bones hesitated for a moment, his knowing hazel eyes stuck on Jim's face, and he suddenly felt warm tear tracks on his cheeks. He could've passed them off as raindrops a while ago, but he realized some time had passed, time during which his face had been hidden from the rain. Cursing inwardly, he wiped them off with a sleeve that was still too wet to really dry them. Bones regained his voice.

"There hasn't been any lightning for a while."

Jim found himself distracted by his cousin's voice, haunting him. "So?"

Bones pointed at their equipment. "Can we use it again?"

Right. That. "Hold on a sec," he muttered, leaning over and grabbing Spock's tricorder. Scans detected a normal amount of electricity in the air – the lightning was gone. Wordlessly, he handed back their stuff, and Bones instantly turned his medical tricorder on Spock. Instead of protesting, the Vulcan only let out a resigned breath. Concern gripped Jim, even as he tried to tell himself arguing with mother-hen-Bones wasn't worth the effort. Spock's resignation was entirely logical. Definitely not a sign of Spock failing to beat the cold.

Although Bones's under-his-breath mutterings might be.

"Damn it, Spock-"

"Doctor," Spock interrupted. "I am fine."

"You're fine when I say you're fine."

 _They're children, I swear._ "Guys, this still isn't the time," Jim cut in.

Bones turned his glare on Jim. "Jim, he's-"

"He's been a hell of a lot worse. Lay off him for a bit, all right?"

Reluctantly, Bones put his tricorder down.

"Thank you, Captain."

Noticing Bones still crouched, Jim added "You can sit down now."

Bones instantly changed positions, stretching his legs out as much as the tiny space allowed, rubbing his thighs. "Thank God."

Jim picked up his communicator. "Kirk to _Enterprise_?" he tried. Still nothing.

"We can never catch a break," Bones muttered.

Spock tilted his head slightly. "How can one-?"

"Just a saying, hobgoblin. How long have you lived with humans? Don't answer that," Bones added hurriedly as Spock opened his mouth. "It was rhetorical."

"Here," Jim said, tossing the tricorder and communicator to Spock. "See if you can figure out how to contact the ship. In the meantime, I'm gonna see if I can find somewhere better."

"Jim, wait-"

"I'm going alone, Bones," Jim cut him off, stern tone inviting no argument, earning a swift glance from Spock. Jim ignored it and ducked out, barely remembering to grab a phaser and communicator. He wasn't going to fall apart in front of them. Not again, not here. They needed the captain who had survived and learned from Tarsus IV, not the thirteen-year-old who had been trapped there.

The thirteen-year-old who didn't know if his mom was coming for him.

-LLAP-

Winona closed her eyes, took a deep breath. This was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Definitely the hardest since deciding to leave Jim in that hospital on Tarsus IV.

 _Damned if I do, damned if I don't._

She could feel the weight of a dozen stares. She could feel the burn of a deadly glare. She could feel her heart being torn between the planet below and the planet so many light years away. She could feel the heartbreak of her decision.

She opened her eyes.

"Sam, I-"

"What do you mean, you're _not coming back?"_

The face on the viewscreen was framed by dark brown hair, had skin tanned by years in the sun, with smoldering hazel eyes glaring out at her. A normal mother would say this was the worst her heart had ever hurt but, well, giving birth to a seemingly-cursed child while listening to his father sacrifice himself had long ago thrown normal out the airlock for Winona. But her son's betrayed fury still _hurt._

Winona tried again. "Your brother-"

" _Jim?_ Is that seriously where you are? I thought you were at Starfleet HQ visiting Admiral Pike!" Sam exclaimed.

Winona's heart sank as she registered the anger in his words. "Yes. I'm on the _Enterprise_ , and your brother-"

"My brother is _still_ messing with my life."

"Your _baby brother_ has never done anything to deserve your hate!" Winona snapped.

Sam scoffed. "He's the reason dad is dead!"

Tension swept through the bridge, the fury of the most loyal crew in Starfleet suddenly focused on the viewscreen. Winona took a step forward, her fist clenching by her side, finally allowing twenty-nine years of guilt and grief to surface.

"There are over eight hundred reasons why your father is dead, Sam, and he would've done the same thing whether or not Jim was being born. Captain Robau still would've assigned him the job, Nero still would've killed him and attacked the _Kelvin_ , he still would've ordered the evacuation, autopilot still would've failed, weapons still would've failed, and he still would've set that collision course. His last words still would've been 'I love you so much. I love you!' And you know what? He wasn't just saying that to me. He was saying it to you and Jim, too – his _sons._ And what did we do? You and I, we _let_ this family fall apart, we _let_ Jim carry the burden of our grief for twenty-nine years, and your father _never_ would have wanted that. Every decision we've ever made regarding Jim has been wrong. Now I see that, and there's no way in hell I'm going to do it again. I'm staying on this ship, because it's about damn time one of us saw Jim as my son and your brother, not just George's son."

Winona inhaled, trying to steady her shaking hands. It had been nearly three decades since she'd let herself express so much emotion about George's death.

Sam faltered in the wake of her tirade. "But-"

"But _nothing._ Do you realize how sad it is that a _Vulcan_ recognized that before Jim's own mother and brother? That a _Vulcan_ was probably the third person in the entire universe to try to help Jim escape the past? Because I do. It's pretty freaking pathetic that a Vulcan did in a matter of months what it's taken us twenty-nine years to do in a matter regarding family and pure emotion. Jim found family in a Vulcan before he found family in his mother and brother."

"He _chose_ to leave us-"

"No, he didn't, Sam. _I_ abandoned _him._ "

Sam blinked. Slowly, confusion replaced his fury. "You… What?"

Tears burned Winona's eyes, and for once, she let a few tears fall. "I just told you he left because I didn't want to burden you with what really happened. I thought… I don't know. I only really know that I failed Jim epically, and I'm here to fix that, and if I leave now, I – we – will never get him back."

"What about me? What about my kids? We need these crops."

"You have friends, Sam, and plenty of them. You can survive one winter, one bad harvest. Jim-"

"Jim has survived over half a lifetime-"

"Jim is stuck on a planet in the middle of a severe storm with a dropping temperature and no way to receive help," Winona yelled. "It hurts, ok? Choosing hurts. I love you both, but Jim needs me more, all right?"

Sam's glare had returned, but this time icy. "Fine," he said, his tone suddenly coldly polite. Without another word, the viewscreen went black.

The blackness stabbed her, the pain akin to a bat'leth to the gut. And yet, some part of her began to warm, a part that had been cold for sixteen years. Longer, if she was honest with herself, because it was the part of her that contained the agony of losing George – and Jim had always been included in that. Until this week. Until now.

Winona swept away the fallen tears, briskly turning and walking towards the turbolift. Uhura stood up as she passed, making Winona pause. "What I said about Commander Spock…"

Uhura waved it off. "We've all thought it, trust me, even after three years – longer, for me, with people asking me what I see in him. I just wanted to ask, why didn't Sam know where you were?"

Winona sighed. "They used to love each other. On some level, I hope they still do. But Sam hates Jim, ever since Tarsus IV. I don't know why, but I told Sam that Jim didn't want anything to do with us, and I never got around to correcting myself. Jim doesn't even know why Sam hates him. Guess that's just another life-ruining mistake I have to fix."

"Don't think like that," Uhura rebuked her. "We all make mistakes, some are just catastrophic compared to others. We all know that, especially Kirk. We also know, though, that the size doesn't matter if you just do your best to fix it, which you are. Right?"

"Of course," Winona replied instantly.

"Then it doesn't matter anymore. It's in the past. It'll take time, but as long as you keep trying to move on, to fix it, it'll fade into nothing but a bad memory. Ok?"

Winona nodded. "Yeah."

"One last thing. Why did you take that call on the bridge? It was very personal."

Winona smiled sadly. "Actions speak louder than words, right? Especially to Jim."

With that, she stepped into the turbolift, praying she hadn't just made all the wrong decisions yet again.

* * *

A/N: I am really sorry about the long wait, but school and The Flash happened. I've also been trying to write some original fiction, but fanfic... And I can't promise the next chapter will be any faster cause I'm actually doing something for Thanksgiving this year, so I'll have little to no time for writing for a few days. So sorry in advance, in case it takes another week and a half or so to write chapter ten.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry this took so long - I finished it like a week ago but didn't trust my vacation internet connection when I wasn't too exhausted to be on my laptop. And then I just kept forgetting.

* * *

Leonard settled back, watching where Jim had disappeared a while ago. He recognized the need to flee, to be isolated from those he cared about; the too-stiff set of his shoulders; the near-forgetting of something important – he just hadn't seen them in years. Separately, they meant Jim just wanted the subject to go away. Together, though… Jim was close to breaking. The hiding was a last-ditch effort to conceal, don't feel, don't let them know. A habit Leonard had been trying to get rid of for six years.

 _Damn you, Winona. He's gotten through hundreds of similar away missions without being overwhelmed by Tarsus._

 _Although, all of those away missions were pretty much non-stop action. And Jim was barely conscious for at least half of them… Tarsus would've been suppressed by adrenaline and pain. Or Jim is normally just really good at hiding his internal workings (which he is)._

 _Anyway, it's better to feel, so you can let go. That's what the books say. That's what experience has proved._

 _But watching it still_ hurts, _damn it._

A shiver distracted him. He set his tricorder down and breathed on his hands, rubbing them together to warm them. This planet was certainly prettier and less snowy than Delta Vega, but they felt like the only differences.

"Shouldn't this rain be hail?" he muttered, half to himself.

Spock answered anyway. "While humans would describe this temperature as 'freezing,' it is, in fact, ten degrees above freezing. So, no, this rain should not be hail."

"Fascinating," Leonard commented drily. Spock cast a sideways glance at him, recognizing the jab for what it was, but otherwise not responding. Damn it, he'd wanted the argument – it would at least distract him from the cold. And Jim. As badly as Leonard wanted to track him down and talk to him, he knew it would be all too easy to get lost, and he wasn't going to throw that burden onto Jim's shoulders – he felt responsible enough as it was. So all he could do was stay put and wait. And it was _frustrating._

Some people would say that the hardest part about being a doctor was informing loved ones of a patient's death, right after losing said patient on the table. Others might say it was the long years of school. Still others would say it was the disgusting jobs.

They were all wrong.

The worst part was the _waiting._ Waiting for a life-saving diagnosis. Waiting for a medicine to take effect. Waiting to see if the patient would wake up. Waiting for the loved ones to come to hear the bad news. Waiting for the suffering to stop when he couldn't make it stop. Waiting for the injured to come flooding into medbay after a firefight or away mission gone wrong. Waiting for the next time Jim got himself hurt. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Because at least when he was talking to the ones left behind, or doing the trivial jobs no one liked, he was _doing something._ While waiting, however, he was completely helpless. He could only sit and watch – and sometimes, not even that. And it drove him insane. Especially when that patient was Jim Kirk (though he technically wasn't supposed to have a favorite, but hey, he was only human).

 _More like Jim I-make-everything-as-hard-as-possible Kirk._

"Doctor, may I borrow your communicator, please?"

Leonard jerked out of his thoughts. "What?"

"I believe I have discovered a way to circumvent the interference, and I require a second communicator to test my theory."

Leonard reached for his belt before remembering he'd dumped it on the ground in front of him after Jim gave it back. Instantly suspicious – Spock could've just grabbed it anytime – Leonard dropped it into Spock's outstretched hand, pondering his motives. Vulcan politeness, or the human urge to snap Leonard out of his thoughts? Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Spock adjusting the communicators, noting the slight tremors of his hands, the way he focused a little too much on the task – even Vulcans (or at least half human ones) had their emotional tells, although the hands were probably just from the cold. And Spock was trying pretty hard not to think about something.

"Penny for your thoughts," he tried.

Spock glanced up, angled eyebrows furrowing together. "Why would you trade an obsolete currency for my thought processes?"

Leonard sighed. "Figure of speech, hobgoblin – I wanna know what you're thinking about."

Spock mulled this over for a moment. "Fascinating" was all he said.

"You gonna answer my question?" Leonard pressed.

Spock resolutely kept his eyes on the communicators. "I am thinking of cutting through the interference."

He said it too fast – the speed of his voice was kind of like a substitute for the tone of a human's; fast meant he was Vulcan-panicking, slow meant he was enjoying the moment, etc. _He's definitely hiding something._ Not that it was surprising, Spock being Vulcan and not exactly on heart-to-heart terms with Leonard. Still, it had to be worth a shot, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his.

"That's not what I meant, Spock, and you know it."

"There are no other thoughts that matter at this moment, Doctor."

Leonard tried not to roll his eyes, but _seriously._ "Oh, come on, hobgoblin, you gotta work with me."

"You are not working, Doctor."

True. "I'm a doctor, not an engineer. My job is keeping you and Jim healthy, and neither one of you are letting me, so forgive me if I appear to be sitting idly by."

"You are forgiven, Doctor."

 _You sarcastic little-_

"Guys! I found a place."

Jim ducked back into their tiny shelter, his uniform once again plastered to his skin. He smothered a sneeze, and Leonard instantly turned his medical tricorder on him. "Damn it, Jim, _one_ away mission-"

"It's probably just a cold, Bones. Let it go."

"This is an alien planet with alien bacteria, Jim – do I have to remind you of another time you said it was 'just a cold?'"

"No," Jim mumbled, ducking his head sheepishly. He quickly regained his air of command, though, adding, "But still, we're not doing this here. Let's get totally out of the rain before we all start turning blue. Wait, do Vulcans turn blue when they get really cold, or do you guys turn green or something?"

Spock didn't dignify that with a response, instead silently standing and collecting his communicator and phaser. Leonard took his own communicator back – away team protocols and whatnot – and slung his medkit strap over his shoulder, tucking his tricorder inside. Jim straightened up again, wincing as his injured shoulder brushed against a branch. Leonard reached for a hypo of local anesthetic, but Jim stopped him short with a pointed "I'm fine." Then Jim was walking, and Leonard was too focused on not tripping over thick undergrowth to try a sneak attack.

Soon – but not before Leonard's body was protesting the speed, Jim was stumbling tiredly, and Spock was shivering again – they arrived at a random cave in the middle of the forest. The opening was about seven feet tall and four feet wide, and, after traveling through a corridor, the interior widened into a space about twenty-by-twenty. The walls were rough, but the ground relatively smooth, and it was warmer than outside and dry. The cave's exterior had been a dark, shimmering black, but the interior was silver, like the _Enterprise_ 's hull, and somehow…

"Why is it lit up in here?"

Not really lit up, per se, but there was enough light to see by, despite this space being at least ten feet inside the cave, the entrance nothing but a dim rectangle.

Spock's tricorder was already out and scanning. "The rock appears to be composed of a reflective material. It is not as powerful as a mirror, but it seems to be reflecting and magnifying the light managing to filter in from outside."

"Cool," Jim commented. As soon as Leonard and Spock were safely over the threshold, he sank down beside the entrance, leaning carefully back against the wall. Leonard wanted to copy the young captain – just flop down and sit there – but he also had a job to do, whether Jim liked it or not.

"You want this thing back, Spock?" he asked, holding out his communicator.

Torn from his examination of the rock, Spock nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you."

Relieved of his communicator, Leonard settled down beside Jim, who sighed in exasperation. "Really, Bones?"

Unfazed, Leonard pulled out his medical tricorder and held it over Jim's shoulder. "Yes, really. You don't seem to realize it, but I'm your doctor and you're injured. Therefore, I am going to do what doctors do. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?"

"Doesn't matter," Jim retorted, edging away. Leonard lightly poked him just below his shoulder, though, and he froze in place.

"You know it matters if a light touch incapacitates you like that," Leonard said pointedly. "Your shoulder isn't dislocated or sprained, just strained because, as per usual, you got stuck in a situation that requires you to use it after getting it injured. I've got a local anesthetic that'll take away the pain but leave you wide awake, although a nap wouldn't do you any harm."

"Not here, Bones."

 _At least he didn't reject the painkiller. Which means he's either listening for once, or it's killing him, or he just wants to appease me. Well, I won't complain._

Jim winced as Leonard administered the hypo, even as some tension eased from his muscles. Tucking his arm protectively against his torso, Jim leaned back, angling his body to partially block the entrance.

"Keeping watch?"

Jim's only response was a one-shouldered shrug. Leonard's heart sank at the apathy, realizing Jim's alone time hadn't worked and he was still trying to close off his emotions. Leonard repacked his medkit and settled down beside Jim, far enough away to give him space, close enough for silent comfort; Jim neither rejected nor accepted the motion.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Keep your penny."

"Jim…"

"Why don't you go bug Spock?"

Spock glanced up, realized they weren't really talking about him, and resumed his work.

"Because you've had a rougher week than he has."

Jim snorted. "Really? I hadn't noticed. He'd be thrilled if his mom came back. It wouldn't be a reminder of every bad memory he's got."

"On the contrary, it would," Spoke broke in quietly. Leonard and Jim turned surprise gazes on him, but he remained singly focused on the communicators. "Her return would be a reminder of every childhood trial, but I remember them regardless, so it is pointless to desire she not be here to remind me."

Jim looked down, suddenly finding a loose rock positively fascinating. If Spock hadn't just bared a tiny piece of his heart (and if he were fully human), they probably would've shared a semi-triumphant glance at the slight change in attitude – Spock's words had definitely broken through his walls.

"He's right," Leonard murmured. "I realize you two have entirely different relationships with your respective mothers, but the principle is the same."

"I know he is, damn it," Jim snapped. "I just- I was thirteen when I vowed never to care about her again, and I survived sixteen years without her, and now here she comes, and suddenly I'm thirteen again and damn it, I don't _want_ to be thirteen, I _can't_ be thirteen, and I- I don't _know_ anymore, and I can't do this again!"

His voice rising to a furious yell and then fading to a choked sob, Jim lurched to his feet and staggered outside. Spock set the communicators down and stood, but remained in spot, tethered by Vulcan inability to face powerful emotions. Leonard scrambled to his feet and followed Jim, calling over his shoulder "Just work on the communicators, all right? I've got this for now."

Jim leaned his forehead against the cave's exterior, his arms on either side of his head, hiding it. Even through the sheet of steadily-falling rain, Leonard could see him shaking, and it more than likely wasn't from cold. Jim was falling apart, finally, truly breaking, and God it hurt to watch the transition from strong young man to broken little boy, no matter how much Leonard reminded himself that Jim had to hit rock bottom before true healing could begin.

"Eleven," Jim rasped.

"What?"

"Scale. Eleven. Bones… It hurts, Bones. Why don't you have a hypo for this?"

Leonard stepped closer, lightly resting a hand on Jim's elbow. "I wish I did, Jim, but this kind of wound is only healed by time; lots and lots of time. But you know what helps?"

"What?" Jim mumbled.

Leonard glanced back at the cave entrance. "Your family."

"What family?" Jim rasped.

"Well, now that she's here, your mother. Uhura's like your big sister, I guess. Carol's your girlfriend. Pike's basically your dad. And, you know, Spock and me are kinda your big brothers-"

Suddenly, Jim was pressing against him, one hand clutching his shirt, the other arm wrapped tightly around Leonard's torso. After overcoming the initial moment of surprise, Leonard hugged him close, tucking Jim's head underneath his chin.

"It'll be ok, little bro," he murmured, giving Jim a reassuring pat on the back. He felt Jim nod against his chest. "Let's go inside the random cave in the middle of the woods, ok?"

Jim gave a tiny hiccup of laughter. "I-it's not random. There's a r-rock structure-"

"Shh. I'm a doctor, not a geologist."

Slowly, Leonard guided Jim back inside, neither one relaxing their grip. "Sit down right here," Leonard murmured, settling Jim in a spot near enough to Spock that the Vulcan's presence would be reassuring, but far enough away to avoid unnecessary awkwardness. Jim gradually cried himself out, and the natural next step would be a good long sleep, but naturally the captain (and, now that Leonard thought about, the Tarsus IV survivor) in Jim wouldn't let that happen.

"Bones-" he tried to protest.

"Nope," Leonard cut him off. "This ain't Tarsus, Jim, and you don't have to be a captain 24/7 with us. Spock and I are big boys and can take care of ourselves for at least a couple hours. _You_ need a nap."

Jim tried to glare, but a yawn ruined it.

"…Fine. Two hours, no more, and wake me up if _anything_ happens. Got it?"

"Of course, I'll wake you up if Spock so much as blinks. Now take a nap."

"Bones…"

"Jim."

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Jim curled up and, with his head pillowed on Leonard's leg, almost instantly fell asleep. Resting a hand on Jim's arm, Leonard turned his attention to the entrance to keep watch. A couple yards away, Spock continued tinkering with the communicators, glancing up at Jim or the entrance now and again.

And so the waiting began again. Waiting for rescue.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I did put Let It Go in a Star Trek fanfic.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: THE STAR TREK BEYOND TRAILER CAME OUT TODAY AND IT'S EPIC (I've only seen it like 20-30 times today...).

Anyway, this is, sadly, the last chapter. I hope it's a decent ending to the story!

* * *

"Jim. Jim, wake up."

He groaned. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, judging by the lack of nightmares, so why the hell was Bones making him get up?

"Come on, Jim, it's morning."

It's… "What?"

"I know, I know, I promised to wake you up, but I fell asleep and Spock was kind enough to let us-"

"No, not that. Well, yeah, that, but – I actually slept."

He blinked open his eyes to see Bones's confused face. "Yes…?"

"I _slept._ No nightmares."

That didn't happen. Ever. Not during a full night of sleep. Even when he was totally drunk, or curled up in Carol's arms. Not since he was thirteen.

Bones's lips twitched upwards, somewhere between a relieved smile and a triumphant smirk. "I told you talking would help."

Jim rolled his eyes – of course Bones would jump on the "I told you so" opportunity. "Really, Bones."

Bones shrugged. "Just sayin'."

Jim pushed himself upright, futilely fighting a yawn. It had been ages since he'd slept that well, uncomfortable ground and wet uniform aside.

"Captain."

 _And now it's captain time again._

"Yeah, Spock?"

"I believe I have circumvented the interference."

All thoughts of sleep vanished from Jim's mind; even Bones perked up. "What'd you do?" Jim asked.

Spock opened his mouth to answer, but Bones cut him off. "Vulcan voodoo. Does it matter, so long as we can get off this rock?"

Bones wasn't wrong. Making a mental note to ask Spock later, Jim declared "He's right. Just try to comm. the ship."

"It is not exactly a communication. I could not restore verbal communication, so I will be attempting Morse code."

"You know Morse code?" Bones exclaimed.

Spock glanced at him. "Nyota taught me. If, as I suspect, she is on duty and paying close enough attention, she will hear. But there is a danger that she will dismiss this as static."

Jim mentally ran through the duty rosters – he'd definitely put Uhura on this shift, but if she had put in overtime last night, she might not be there now… "Nah, she's good at this stuff. She'll notice."

Spock closed his eyes and tilted his head in concentration, his fingers ever so slightly hesitant on the communicator, mouthing letters to himself. Jim trusted Spock, but he found himself wondering just how long it had been since he'd last used Morse code – it wasn't exactly a coveted skill in the 23rd century. Although it probably should be.

As the wait for a reply stretched out, Bones fidgeted impatiently. Jim elbowed him, ignoring the pouty glare he got in return. Spock continued to send out his message, and from reading his lips, Jim guessed he was saying " _Enterprise._ " Or "In the price," but the ship's name made more sense.

The wait stretched on.

-LLAP-

Winona strode through the corridors beside Uhura, heading back to her station. After Winona had cleared her head, she had returned to the bridge and hung around Uhura's station until Lieutenant Sulu ordered them both to get a meal and some shuteye. They'd both tried to get some shuteye, failed miserably, and then Uhura had found Winona in the mess hall. They'd talked over their meals, about Jim, about Spock, the _Enterprise_ , random subjects until they decided it was time to return to the bridge before they both went crazy doing nothing to help.

"Really?" Uhura laughed. "Kirk's favorite toy was a slinky?"

Winona grinned. "He loved that thing, especially watching it flip down the stairs. He was devastated when he lost it."

"Well, now I know what to get him for his birthday."

"He celebrates those?" Winona asked, surprised.

Uhura shrugged. "If we surprise him, which we normally do a few days after his actual birthday. On the actual day, he tends to make himself as scarce and drunk as possible, and he's tense the week leading up to it. Afterwards, though, he's happy enough to bask in the fact that, for a couple months, he's only two years younger than Spock."

Winona chuckled at the last part, but her heart sank at the rest of it. "So we ruined that part of life for him, too," she murmured.

"No," Uhura rushed to reassure her as they entered the turbolift. "Well, it wasn't entirely you and – I'm assuming 'we' means his brother – Sam. Celebrating his birthday on that day is like celebrating Mother's Day around Spock or Father's Day around Leonard – it's just a reminder of what they've lost. They're just naturally averse to those specific holidays, despite what anyone says or does."

"Oh," Winona sighed. The turbolift doors slid open, and she paused before following Uhura to her station, letting her gaze take in the bridge crew, among them Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu, each one diligently doing their duty to help recover her son and his friends.

 _Jim could've done a lot worse for himself,_ she thought to herself.

"Hey, Uhura-"

"Shh," the young woman cut her off, holding up a finger to signal "Wait a minute." "I think I'm getting something."

The whole bridge turned towards her, Winona fastest of all. Questions – demands, really – surged towards her tongue, but she bit them back. Uhura closed her eyes and tilted her head, pressing the earpiece into her ear, her fingers tapping a rhythm on her console, her lips mouthing letters.

"E-A-T-E-D-P-D-I-U-E… No, that's an N… Those are R's, and that's an S… _Enterprise_!" Her eyes flew open, darting to Winona. "It's Spock. I taught him Morse Code years ago."

"Respond," Sulu ordered urgently.

Uhura forced her fingers to remain steady as she replied "S-P-O-C-K."

A wide grin split her face as she slowly interpreted Spock's response, quickly returning her own. "They're ok," she reported. "And he's sending me their coordinates." After sending one last message, she hit the ship's intercom button. "Bridge to transporter room."

 _"Scott here. Wha' is it, lassie?"_

"Spock made contact. I'm sending you their coordinates. You can beam them up, right?"

 _"Aye. The necessary repairs and tweaks have been made, so ye best hurry down here."_

Neither woman needed telling twice. Uhura threw down her earpiece, and they darted into the turbolift.

-LLAP-

"Well, that was rather anticlimactic," Bones commented.

"I thought you'd like that, Bones."

"It wasn't a complaint, just a statement."

"Yeah, right."

Spock flipped his communicator shut. "We will have to exit the cave before the _Enterprise_ can beam us up."

Bones helped Jim up, and they followed Spock outside. A few moments later, white tendrils of light began to wrap around them, and Jim allowed himself a small sigh of relief. As he was blinking and adjusting to his rematerialization in the transporter room, someone threw themselves on him, pulling him into a massive bear hug.

"Jim," his mom gasped in relief.

Warmth chased away the chill from the planet. He wrapped his uninjured arm around her and dropped his face into her shoulder. "You're still here," he whispered.

She leaned back a bit, cupping on side of his face. "Always," she promised fiercely. "From now on, I'll always be here."

"She means it, too," Uhura added, a brief pause in her mothering of Spock. Three years of away missions, and she still acted like a mother hen every time he beamed back aboard after one that had gone wrong – a luxury no one denied her in non-emergency situations.

"I'm back, too," Bones announced sarcastically.

"Ye wan' a hug, Doc?" Scotty asked cheekily.

"Uh, I'm good, thanks. Who's up for an obligatory trip to medbay?"

Jim groaned. "Really, Bones? Now?"

"What, you didn't see that coming?" Bones retorted.

His mom edged back, smiling at his antics. "Come on, sweetheart."

"You too, Spock," Uhura said firmly. Exchanging a resigned glance with Spock, they allowed themselves to be tugged after Bones.

"How about a nice hot dinner afterwards?" his mom suggested. "I could cook up something."

"Yes," Jim agreed instantly. Her cooking was one of few good memories from his years on the farm. "There was that one thing-"

"Curried pumpkin and peas – you could never get enough of it."

-LLAP-

Later that night, well-fed by delicious home cooking and dressed in warm civvies, the five of them ended up in Jim's relatively roomy quarters, though they were still just a rectangle with the office furniture near the door, the bedroom furniture placed near the bathroom on the opposite wall from the entrance. Spock sat in Jim's desk chair, Uhura perched on his lap, their intertwined hands resting on her lap. Leonard reclined in Jim's reading chair, while Jim sprawled out on his bed, his head pillowed on Winona's leg. His arm rested in a sling again, for caution's sake, and Winona was mindful of this as she massaged it gently with one hand, her other smoothing his hair.

"Nyota," Spock was protesting.

She grinned teasingly, turning a pair of warm brown puppy eyes on her fiancée. "Come on, let me tell the story," she pleaded. "They know not to tell."

"No," Spock insisted.

She sighed, kissing his forehead. "One day."

"Please can it be today?" Leonard begged.

Spock shot him a stubborn glance.

"Jim, help me out here," Leonard said, glancing at the young man. "Order him- Never mind," he cut himself off, dropping his voice to a whisper.

Jim was fast asleep, oblivious to the world.

Uhura slid off Spock's lap. "That's our cue. Good night, guys."

As the couple made their exit, Leonard stood up and stretched. "Do you want help getting him properly settled?" he asked Winona.

"It's not a problem-" she started.

"I've done it a million times," Leonard reassured her. "Really, it's nothing. I like taking care of my baby brother. When it's not a life-threatening injury or illness or something like that, anyway."

Winona smiled. "He's lucky to have you."

Leonard snorted. "He knows it, too."

"All right," Winona agreed, reaching back to tug down the blankets.

Leonard carefully slid his arms underneath Jim's torso and legs. He stirred sleepily, complaining "Boooones" softly.

"Go back to sleep," Leonard urged quietly, lifting him to the space Winona had cleared – it was a maneuver much easier with a little girl, but they all knew he'd do anything for Jim. He settled Jim in the sprawled position he'd been in, pulling the covers over him. Jim burrowed into them as Winona shifted to sit beside him, holding him and stroking his hair, gazing down at him like he was her entire world.

"G'night, Bones," Jim mumbled.

"Ditto, kiddo."

-LLAP-

"Do you have to go?" Jim murmured.

It was the morning after, and he was walking her down to the transporter room, where she would beam to a cargo ship passing by on its way to Earth, and Carol would beam aboard from the planet the _Enterprise_ was orbiting, her vacation over. After the long week and last night's long, revealing conversation before he fell asleep in her shelter, Jim was reluctant to let her go.

His mom nodded. "My conversation with Sam didn't end well, remember? Gotta fix that now."

"Oh. Right."

"There's no need to sound so dejected," she half-reassured, half-teased him. "We're back on good terms, but you do still have to share my attention with your brother. Plus, the _Enterprise_ is your home, not mine."

"I know that. Just-"

"The last time we left like this, we didn't see or talk to each other for sixteen years," she finished.

"Yeah."

The doors to the transporter room slid open to admit them. She stopped inside, turning to face him and taking his hand. "How about, if I don't comm. you within a week, you can comm. and yell at me as much as you want?"

Jim half-laughed. "Maybe I'll even get Bones to yell at you, too. Might want to get Sam's kids out of the house."

His mom grinned and stretched up to kiss his cheek, enveloping him in one last hug. "Deal."

Jim hugged her back. "Talk to you later."

As they broke apart, a flash announced someone's arrival. Jim looked up with a grin, breaking away from his mom to hug her, greeting her with a long kiss. "Hey, Carol."

Carol grinned, her smile blinding until she noticed the sling. "What did you do to yourself this time?" she demanded, concern darkening her face.

"I had a run-in with the turbolift wall," he muttered, edging away from her probing fingers.

"It was a bit more than that," his mom chimed in. Glancing back, he saw her raising a pointed eyebrow at him, eyeing the way their hands lingered on each other. "You want to introduce us?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, Carol, this is my mom. Mom, this is Carol, my girlfriend."

Had she been eating, Carol probably would have choked on her food. "What? Mom?! I thought-"

Jim held up a hand to stop her. "It's been a long week. I'll explain later, ok? Meanwhile, Mom, don't you have a cargo ship to rendezvous with?"

"Aye, tha' she does."

Jim jumped. "Scotty? Why didn't you say anything?"

The engineer grinned mischievously. "Firs' off, I figured ye had seen me when ye walked in. Second, tha' there was very entertainin'."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Time to beam her off," he ordered, moving Carol's bags off the pad.

His mom stepped onto the pad. "I want to hear all about this," she said, gesturing at Carol, "when I comm. you."

"Really, Mom? Seriously? You've been my mom again for a few days, and you're already going there?" Jim moaned.

"Yes," she stated. "Bye, sweetheart."

"So," Carol began once she left. "Your mom, eh?"

Jim pulled her into a one-armed hug and kissed her forehead, staring at nothing. "Long week, Carol. A very long week."

Carol brushed against his hand. "Let's go to my quarters, and you can tell me all about it on the way, ok?"

He nodded, and Carol picked up her bags and led the way, managing to find a way to hold his hand as they walked. Jim talked, explaining his mother's arrival, his reaction, Bones and Spock's involvement, the panic attacks, the conversations, the away mission – everything, really. By the time he was done, they were in her quarters, and Carol had unpacked and dressed for their shift that had started ten minutes ago.

"Come here," she whispered, pulling him into a hug. "How about some quiet time and an old movie tonight, just the two of us?"

Tension eased from his being at the thought of curling up with her, no talking, just silent comfort – or listening to her talk about her week, and pretty much anything she said was soothing because of the effects of an attractive British accent.

"Sounds good to me. Now, we're late for our shift."

"Nothing new."

They meandered their way to the bridge, wandering out of the turbolift with their hands lightly clasped together.

"About damn time," Bones commented, stabbing his good arm with a hypo.

"Ow!" Jim yelped. "What the hell?"

"Just some belated protection against anything you might have picked up on that cursed planet. Welcome back, Carol," he added.

"Good to see you too, Leonard," she greeted, grinning.

"That hurt," Jim pouted.

Carol rubbed his arm. "Does the whittle Jimmy need a kiss to make the booboo stop hurting?"

Sulu and Chekov stifled laughter behind their hands.

Jim let out an exaggerated sigh and went to his chair, Bones standing behind him and Carol retreating to her own station. "We ready to go, Sulu?"

"At your command, sir," the pilot reported, still fighting back a laugh.

 _That's my family._

"Warp 2. Punch it."


End file.
